Plucking of a Berry
by holograffiti
Summary: So what if things had worked out a little differently, at the end of Mash Up?  What if Puck's replies to Rachel's attempt to break them up had been slightly altered?  Maybe it'd have gone something like this?  Extended. Rated M for a reason...!
1. Chapter 1 an intro

_**Disclaimer:**_  
_I don't own anything except my mistakes._  
_I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),_  
_but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_Lots of love & heartfelt thankyous to my amazing BETA, Anna.  
_

* * *

_So what if things had worked out a little differently, at the end of Mash Up?_

_What i__f Puck's replies to Rachel's attempt to break them up had been slightly altered?  
Maybe it'd have gone something like this:_

**Chapter one, an intro  
Puck's POV:**

She tries to break up with him. Rachel Berry is trying to break up with HIM. Noah Puckerman. The studliest stud to have ever gone close to her, or something like that.  
He should let it slide. Just tell her he would have broken up with HER if she didn't beat him to the punch. He's waaaaay too badass for this shit.

Instead he hears himself ask  
"Is this about Finn? Cause, you know… He's the jealous type."  
Rachel stares at him in confusion for a second or two, and then replies  
"So you're saying that… We should stay together and keep up appearances, in order to make him see the light, so to speak?"

He shrugs.

He didn't really think that far, but if that's what she's wanting to hear, he can totally roll with that shit.

Apparently, that shrug looks clever or something, because she actually skips up to him and falls into his lap, showering his face with kisses and BEAMS up to him, all kid-on-Christmas-morning-like a.k.a batshit crazy Rachel'ishly (He sort of likes it. It's real and honest. Puck could use some more honesty in his life, what with the whole pregnancy-debacle-crap going down. He really hates living this lie.) and nods rapidly.  
"Noah, you're so much more intelligent than you give yourself credit for! That is a fantastic plan – so devious and cunning! It will also be a very good chance for me to practice playing the loving girlfriend. I am SURE I will get plenty of those roles in the future, you see!"

He just shrugs again and bends down to kiss her.

It's perfect. It makes her shut up – and it is a quite pleasurable way of spending the afternoon. Rachel has very soft, kissable lips and her tongue is very agile. He feels his cock reacting to the tongue action, so he encircles her hips with his hands, pulling her flush against his growing erection. She doesn't seem to mind. At all.

As a matter of fact, she doesn't even seem to remember Finn now.  
She always sort of just melts against him when they make out.

He's pretty sure he can make her forget about Frankenteen altogether, given time.

Time she just gave him.

Bring it!

* * *

_**A/N:** This intro is short, I know. It's because it's just an introduction to the storyline. :)_  
_The following chapters are not as short. R&R's are VERY much appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;) _

_

* * *

_

**Chapter two,  
Puck's POV:**

He's bored.  
Normally, he'd call Santana for a hook-up, but since he's now a "dedicated boyfriend", even if it's just a pretend relationship, he probably shouldn't.  
(He's actually not even feeling like it much. Been there, done that – got the scars on his back to prove it.)

He signs onto AIM, logs into Facebook and checks his email, randomly checking out friends' statuses and laughing out loud at some stupid-ass cat picture Brittany posted to his wall on Facebook. He's pretty sure she doesn't get the joke (it's not even good) and only picked it out because she thought the kitten in the photo was cute.  
She's not the sharpest tack, but she's sorta cool anyway.

He goes to get a bottle of water and when he gets back, there's an IM blinking on his screen  
**Born2Ba*** Noah, are you there?

He laughs at the VERY Rachel'esque username and starts typing a reply, chiding her for writing such an atypical, short message (she usually sounds like she's swallowed a dictionary, even when she's texting or IM'ing) but before he can answer, two more messages pops up.  
**Born2Ba*** Noah? Please!  
**Born2Ba*** I'm scared!

He sends his reply ("I'm here.") the same second his phone lights up with a text  
_Rachel: I think there's someone outside my house!_

The water bottle is left behind, forgotten.

He doesn't even close the laptop. He just presses "dial" while he runs down the stairs, and pulls a jacket from the hanger before hopping into his truck. She replies with a breathless "NOAH!" and he quickly burst out  
"On my way. Lock the doors, babe. I'll put you on speaker. I need to use both hands to drive…"

He is breaking all the speed limits, ignoring stop signs and generally being a pretty crappy driver while trying to calm Rachel down via the phone that's now in his lap.  
She just sobs softly on the other end, and he speeds up further.

He reaches her house in 3 minutes (Normally, it's a 10 minute drive) and hops out, telling her to open the door for him in a second. When he knocks at the door, she pulls it open and all but falls to her knees when he steps inside.  
Catching her, he holds her to his chest, while muttering nonsensical words to calm her. He carries her to the couch and sits down with her hanging from his neck, and her tiny behind placed on his lap.  
"It's ok, babe. I'm here now. What happened?"  
She sobs into his shoulder, and lets out a small cry.  
"There was someone there. Outside. First it was just strange crackling noises, like someone walking on the gravel, but then I saw a face at the window! Oh, Noah, I was so frightened!"

He's fuming. Whoever did this is gonna pay. No one scares his girl and gets away with it (What? Fuck off. Even if it's a pretend relationship, she's still his girl. Whatever.) even though it's probably just some stupid kid, pulling a prank.  
When he's sure she's mellowed down a little, he asks her what window she saw the face through (the livingroom, the one at the far right) and he brings a flash light with him to go check it out. She freaks a little, but he promises he'll be ok.

He walks around the house (making sure to walk beside the gravel by the flower beds, not messing anything up) and sure as hell, there are definitely footsteps in them. Someone's been sneaking around out here for quite some time, because the not only the gravel is disturbed. There's two cigarette butts lying in the soil of the flowerbed (when he touches them, one is slightly warm and the other is cold, so he knows it's been a while since that cigarette was lit), and the grass is sort of trampled in a few places. He's gone from fuming to pretty freaked out now. This? This is worse than Jew-fro trying to sneak a peak of Rachel in her delicates or something.

He doesn't tell her that, though.

He just holds her and promises that everything will be ok. She asks him if he can stay with her. She's too stressed out to want to be alone, and her dads are both away on a business trip. (Well, he knows that, of course. Why else would she have called him?) Hesitating at first, he decides to roll with it.  
"Sure, Berry – but don't try to take advantage of me or anything, ok?" he says with a smirk and a wink. She laughs and he exhales a breath  
he had't realized he was holding.

It feels good to see her eyes gleam with laughter again.

They cuddle up together on her bed. She's in a pyjama and he's wearing his tee and boxers. He doesn't even think about trying to get into her pants.  
He just whispers "good night, Berry", holds her and strokes her hair until her breathing tells him that she's asleep, and even after that, he keeps caressing her silky strands of hair until he drifts off into oblivion as well.

* * *

He wakes up first, still curled around her tiny body and with his nose buried in her soft, scented hair. He enjoys lying there, just being. Her breathing is slow and serene and it's relaxing… until a certain part of his anatomy wakes up too, demanding some action.

He takes a cold shower and dresses in the jeans and tee from the night before (except he doesn't put on the boxers again.) and after rinsing his mouth with some mouthwash he's good to go.  
When he's done, he sneaks out and snaps a few photos of the grass, the gravel and the cigarette butts with his phone. He's not really sure WHY he does that, but somehow it makes him feel better. Maybe he can use it as evidence… or something.  
(Yeah, he has no idea what he's doing, but he's seen TONS of action movies and it seems like something the dudes in the movies would do.)

He doesn't want to leave before he's made sure she's feeling ok, so he makes some coffee and lounges on the couch with a mug of steaming java and the newspaper until he hears her stir and get up.

They have breakfast together (well, he has breakfast while she drinks a protein shake with banana and flax seed oil that LOOKS horrid, but tastes, he realizes after stealing it from her to chug a taste, no worse than a milk shake. Except for a strange tint of something fishlike. She says it's the flax seed oil. He really doesn't understand how flax seed can taste like fish, but then again – he's no genius. Just a badass stud.) and she is more back to her normal self now, talking a lot but with a lot more laid back vocabulary.  
He wonders if she dumbs it down for him, or if she's always like this when she's relaxed?  
No need to ask and mess up a good thing, he thinks. But he grins, and she smiles back. He likes that she's smiling again. Seeing her all freaked out... well, he didn't like it! He always seem to get all tense when she's sad or hurt. _  
_(And still, he gave her all those slushie facials, for such a long time. He doesn't like to think about that either. Moving on.)

Her fathers are scheduled to come home soon, and neither of them really want to find out how they'd like it that a strange boy has slept in their daughter's bed during the night so he pops off, while she goes upstairs to get on the elliptical.

* * *

His mother gives him hell for not being home for breakfast. He lies and says that he just drove off to Finn's because he woke up early.  
He can tell that she doesn't believe him, but she can't prove anything so he's off the hook.

For now.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary (because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 3,  
Puck's POV:**

Friday rolls around. It usually does, after Thursday's over…  
Puck's in the cafeteria, slouching and avoiding class, when Rachel comes skipping through the door, wearing one of those ridiculously short skirts that showcase her crazy hot legs (For such a tiny little chick, she's got surprisingly long legs - and they're FINE!) and a white button up with matching knee socks, sort of like a school girl fantasy come to life. Except she's not wearing her hair in pony tails. For a second, his mind drifts off and he wonders if he can persuade her to braid her hair...  
Amused and rather aroused by the thought, he looks up at her and greets her with a slow smile and a "Hi…", before she slides onto his knee and starts kissing him passionately.  
He's pretty surprised by her (seriously hot) PDA until he hears someone clearing his throat just behind them.

Frankenteen.  
That explains it.

"Yea?"  
"Just wanted to check if you guys are coming to Quinn's party tonight? She made me ask" Finn says, tonelessly, not even meeting his eyes. The tall boy looks anything but happy with his current task. Even his voice sounds pouty.  
"Yea. You're obviously thrilled…" Puck says, slowly and pointedly, cocking his eyebrow and gracing Finn with the most ironic smirk he can muster up. "…so we might stop by. We'll see. Depends on whether or not we get out the door…"  
he continues, with a wink.

He bends down to claim Rachel's mouth with his own again, slowly dragging his tongue across her bottom lip and, when she mewls into his mouth, he nips her lip lightly with his teeth. Her eyes fall closed and she inhales raggedly.  
When Puck looks up, Finn's standing twenty feet away and he does NOT look happy with the situation.

Puck, however, is delighted…!

Very slowly and lightly, he licks Rachel's neck and then caress the lobe of her left ear with his tongue, which makes her sort of shudder and sink deeper into his lap. He bites down gently and then whispers  
"Finn's going insane. Great job, babe!"  
Rachel looks into his eyes and he swears, that for a second she doesn't know what he's talking about.  
"Oh… Oh, yes of course. I pride myself in the best performances only."  
Smirking, he grinds her down onto his rapidly growing erection with the words  
"I take that as a promise…"

She blushes fiercely, but then suddenly bursts out laughing and exclaims loudly "Oh, Noah! You're incorrigible… and I LOVE it!" with a husky, singsongy voice that makes him even hornier.  
She winks at him. WINKS!  
He can't decide if he wants to take her to that party… or if he should stay at home with her and try to persuade her that NOT showing up would be the best way to get Finn jealous.

But he's starting to realize that it's a dangerous game he's playing.

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

She thinks it's a fantastic idea to make sure she arrives at the cafeteria before the other kids do. Puck's there already and she quickly makes her way up to him and sits down on his lap.

When he looks up at her with those liquid hazel eyes & a sexy grin, and murmurs "Hi…" she feels something curl and uncurl in the bottom of her stomach. She quickly takes action to scare the thoughts away, and instead of thinking she leans forward to meld her mouth onto his soft lips.  
Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind and soon, she is starting to forget the world around him as they kiss. Honestly!  
That. Boy. Can. Kiss!

Suddenly, there's a very disturbing noise behind them, which she first thinks she can just ignore but when it repeats itself, Puck untangles himself slightly from her and say "Yea?"  
Finn is standing there and he wants them to come to a party. She should be ecstatic at this turn of events, and she is pretty sure she will be, too, as soon as her head stops being so fuzzy.  
When Puck's tongue sweep across the column of her neck and up to the lobe of her ear, she decides to think about Finn and the party later. Right now, she really can't focus on anything but the boy whose hard body is pressed up against hers, and whose lips are doing insanely enjoyable things to her ear. She wiggles a little to get closer to him and he inhales sharply, and then he says something that confuses her. "Finn's going insane! Great job, babe!"

It takes her a second or two to wrap her head around that riddle, but when the words snap into place she understands – and she's rather embarrassed that she somehow sort of forgot about it just because of the way this boy makes her body feel. (Which, by the way, is electric, hot and amazing!) Of course, she'd never admit to having lost sight of the goal, even for a second, so she primly and properly answers that she is always making sure her work is the best.

He replies with an innuendo that makes her feel rather flushed and when he grabs her hips and holds her down, making sure she can feel the physical evidence of his arousal press into her core, she almost don't care about making Finn jealous anymore.  
Almost.  
She can't stop the laughter that's bubbling up inside her so she lets it out, and delivers an Oscar winning reply to his line.

…but she's starting to realize that this is a dangerous role she's playing…

* * *

After school, she cooks dinner for her dads and herself, does the dishes and then hops on the elliptical. She figures that if she is going to be eating and drinking unhealthy things at this party, she'd probably prepare, don't you think? And Rachel is well aware that there will probably be unhealthy snacks at the party, and that there will most certainly be alcohol. She is ok with that. Contrary to popular belief, she's not a total daddy's girl. Well, actually she IS a total daddy's (and dad's) girl but that's not the point. The point is that she isn't a stranger to alcohol. She's not a lush in any way, but she hasn't been as sheltered as people tend to believe.

After a shower and rigorous hair fixing (it's not like those ringlets just happen, you know) she is standing inside her walk in closet, trying to decide what to wear. She doesn't want to ask anyone and she's just not quite sure what kind of clothes are suitable for a party like this. Sometimes, she just wishes she could wear a uniform, like the Cheerios do. That would certainly take the edge off of choosing your outfit!  
Finally, she decides on a sequined spaghetti strap top, a simple black skirt and a pair of black boots. She's pretty sure that they'll be passable. Make-up done and dressed to the nines, she goes downstairs to chat with her fathers for a little while, to pass time.  
They drive her over to Noah's house and tell her to have fun, so she kisses their cheeks and leaves.

She's really rather nervous.

* * *

**Puck's POV:**

It's decided that they'll go to the party. Her dads will drop her off at his place first so that they can ride together to Quinn's place. So she arrives, promptly at seven, knocking at his door. Luckily he told her to let herself in, and she does – because he's not even out of the shower yet. He can hear her walking up the stairs though, so he knows she's there.  
That doesn't stop him from walking into his room dressed in nothing but water drops and a towel, hanging dangerously low on his hips. He knows he's got a fine body. Heck, he's worked hard for it (and reaped the benefits on many an occasion, with a lot of admiring ladies) so he SHOULD know.

Rachel is standing with her back to him, looking at the movies in his shelf when he walks in. Spinning around, she opens her mouth to speak but when her eyes land on his half naked body, she blushes and her mouth just hang open, not saying a word.

"See something you like, Berry…?" he teases, but he's rather taken aback with her honest reply. "As a matter of fact, yes I do, Noah. You have a very attractive torso, and you are well aware that I find your arms quite lovely. However, I would really appreciate it if you didn't drop that towel in front of me…!"  
Her voice sort of pitches at the end, when his hands hover over the knot of the towel. It makes him laugh, but hey – he's nothing if not a gentleman. (Actually – he's a lot of things, and very rarely a gentleman, but there's a time and place for everything and being naked in front of Rachel is for another time.) so he just bends down to fetch the clothes he's (actually) picked out and laid on the bed, cocking an eyebrow to her and – while he exits the room and enters the bathroom, he answers

"Wishful thinking, much…?"

(At least **he** wishes.)


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_I'd also like to take this opportunity to say **THANKS** to everyone who's reviewed, favourited and put my story on alert.  
You make my day!  
*heart*_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 4,  
Puck's POV:**

Rachel Berry is sitting on his bed. He's in the bathroom, buttoning up a pair of clean jeans and she's just there, on his bed, waiting for him to get dressed. What's wrong with this picture?  
Usually, any girl waiting for him where she is currently sitting, isn't waiting for him to get his clothes ON… But he's sort of fine with it. She's looking very hot tonight in an outfit that's both more relaxed and more glam than what she usually dresses in, but that still manages to look very Rachel'esque.

He pulls the tee over his head while leaving the bathroom so he can't see her but he sure can hear her when she asks him where his mom & sister are.  
"Out. Mom's got the night shift so the wee one's at a slumber party with one of her schoolmates, since I… We. Since we're going out."  
His head is now free from the fabric and he tucks the tee into his jeans as he begins to sit down to pull on some socks, but stubs his toe on the halfway hidden x-box that sticks out underneath a pile of discarded tees by his bed, curses loudly and loses his balance. He falls on top of her, managing to straighten out enough as to not mash her completely beneath him – but his torso is now leaning in over hers and his right knee is definitely too far up between her legs for being considered proper… but she doesn't shy away. Carefully testing the waters, he looks down into her wide, brown eyes and when he slowly leans down, she lets out a small sound and a huff, licking her slightly parted lips. Yea, she's just as affected by this as he is, he can tell. (She didn't even reprimand him for his foul language, after all…)

His lips crashes down on hers with a frenzy he can't quite explain to himself, and she responds in kind. His knee twists her legs apart slightly, and he lowers himself down between them, careful not to go too far – but she arches up to meet him and his restraint flies out the window. He can feel the heat radiating from her centre, up through his rapidly hardening cock. Grinding into her, he kisses her until he has to stop and come up for air, so instead, he bows his head down to her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth and then continuing down, he nips and sucks at her neck, feeling breathless.

Her heart is pounding away against his fingers, resting lightly at the base of her neck, in the same rapid speed his own does (it thuds in his ears like a bass drum) and he has to clench and release his fist, shaking it twice, trice, four times rapidly to make it stop shivering.

He takes a second to compose himself, looking down on her glazed over eyes, the slight blush on her cheeks, her mouth (swollen and red from the fierce kisses) and the way her hair looks dishevelled and lies in ringlets all over his pillow, and he realizes that he doesn't just want to take what was Finn's. This isn't about getting back at the Golden Boy for taking what Puck wants. It isn't about the baby Quinn carries in her belly, that she wouldn't allow him to touch – but that Finn gets to hold his hands lovingly over whenever he wants. It isn't even about the quarterback position that they'd once fought over (Finn won, as always, even though Puck wasn't so sure he was actually the better or more suitable player for the position).

This is about something else.  
This girl.  
Her.

He slowly withdraws his hands from the sides of her body, where they have been roaming and caressing (not even trying to touch her boobs) and he plants another, sweet and relatively chaste, kiss on her lips.

"Come on, babe. We'll be late if we don't leave now…"

(Even if a little voice in his head – or maybe its origins is somewhere further down south – whispers that he couldn't care less about the party.)

* * *

For some reason, Brittany answers the door at Quinn's house. She is clearly more than a little intoxicated, but very welcoming and happy to see them, which is further proven by the way she flings herself around their necks simultaneously, making them squish together, exclaiming that she is SO happy to see them, "because this party is out of ice!"  
With that she whirls away, leaving them both dumbfounded. Mike exits the kitchen at that same time, shaking his head at them and explaining that they can just go inside, but that he'll be back in a little while, after fetching the ice Brittany obviously needs. For something. Hopefully just her drinks.  
But you never know with her.

So they make their first grand entry together, hand in hand and smiling. Everyone is standing in the kitchen, watching as Brittany and Santana are giving a very visual show-and-tell on how to properly do Tequila shots. Body style.

Santana licks Brittany's collarbone and salts it, placing a wedge of lime between the blonde's teeth, then she licks away the salt, downs the tequila, and fetches the lime from Brittany's lips (she doesn't seem to be in a hurry) and as soon as she straightens up, all the guys in the room, unanimously shake their heads and say "Nope. Still don't get it!" and everybody laugh as the lesson starts from scratch.  
Judging from the state of the girls, it seems that these boys are VERY stupid and haven't gotten the heist of the demos for quite some time…

Santana wiggles her eyebrow at him, with a pointed look at Rachel. He just cocks an eyebrow and smirks back, to which the Latina nods with a slight smile playing over her lips, before she turns back to Brittany and says "Ok, seriously. Last demonstration. Then there's the test…" which makes the boys howl in agreement.  
Rachel has already been served a glass of white wine, which she sips slowly (much to his surprise) so he fetches a coke for himself and then jumps up on the counter and pulls Rachel in between his legs.

He locks his feet in front of her, like a kind of a perpetual leg-hug and with the hand that isn't holding the coke, he starts rubbing circles in the scalp of her hair. She shivers and looks up at him, saying "Noah… That feels amazing…!"  
"Nothing like the scalp massage you gave me after that slushie facial" he replies, coolly, but there's a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. One he really doesn't feel like exploring right now, so he unlocks his legs and gently pushes the brunette away, telling her that he needs to take a leak and that he'll be right back.  
She answers with a genuinely sweet smile and a quick kiss on the lips that, in combination, shoots straight to his groin and he is happy that he's already given an excuse or he would have had to make one up now because he seriously needs to think of mailmen for a minute or two, to make the evidence of the way she affects him go away.

The night moves on quite pleasantly. They are having fun, singing karaoke (well, there IS a glee-club present), joking and laughing, making out and all the jazz that usually goes on at parties like these. Santana and Brittany are long gone with their respective man of the night and Tina & Artie seem to have some kind of never-ending footsie going on, where they are sitting in his wheel-chair. At least Puck hopes it's footsie. He doesn't really want to look closer in case it turns out to be something else entirely, but he doubts that Tina or Artie would do that. He actually kind of likes the cooky Asian and the witty geek. (Who, by the way, has a killer voice! Finn definitely needs to move over and let Artie sing way more. But then again, Finn pretty much just needs to move over. Period.)

Quinn is starting to yawn considerably, and Rachel tells Puck that it's probably time to leave, to let the pregnant girl get her rest. He couldn't agree more. Not that he cares about Quinn's rest, but he is quickly running out of excuses to not talk to Finn who has had a few beers and is getting into his usual intoxicated, bulldoggy confrontational mood where he just won't let well enough be, but instead keeps coming at Puck with stupid, insulting comments about how he should treat Rachel well, remember that she's a good girl, not be so selfish for once and whatnot.

He is struggling not to cause a scene and start the brawl with Finn that the boy is begging for (whether HE knows that or not).

* * *

When they drive upto Rachel's house, he turns the engine off. She shoots him a look that he perceives as a warning, so he wags his eyebrows and then laughs.  
"Relax. I'm not after your virtue. Just making sure you get in all right." This is obviously exactly the right thing to say, because she sticks her hand through the crook of his elbow and smiles up at him, happily chattering on about how nice tonight was, how much fun she had and how she felt like she fit in even if… She goes quiet and his amusement turns to a question.  
"Rachel?"  
She's staring down at something, lying in the flower bed by her driveway. He follows her gaze and realizes quickly what it is. A cigarette butt. A cigarette butt and footprints in the soil. Just like the ones he found the other day.

"Get back into the truck" he says. "You're sleeping at my place tonight. My sister's bed. Don't worry."

He makes a mental note to check her yard the next day, but as of right now, his main priority is to make sure that the scared look in Rachel's eyes is erased.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_The l__yrics in this chapter are from the fantastic song "Refuge" from the album "Throwing Punches in the Dark" by the super talented Matthew Perryman Jones.  
I WISH I could write like that. Matthew is a true poet. _

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 5,  
Puck's POV  
**

Puck's house is silent and dark when they get there. Rachel is still shivering beside him, and the fact that he's hung his letterman jacket around her slender shoulders does nothing to take away the chills that come from someplace deep within. It's not that she's cold, he knows that, but rather that she's scared. He still hopes that his jacket can provide some kind of safety. Like a cocoon to protect her from whoever is sneaking around outside her house at night.  
Puck's head is held high and his shoulders are squared. He feels like the weight of this responsibility is partially his to carry, so she doesn't have to go through this alone.

They step out of his truck in complete silence. Rachel hasn't spoken a word since they left her home, and Puck just doesn't know what to say. He wishes he knew a secret formula that'd make her happy. An emotional abracadabra… but he doesn't even know how to tell her that he cares, so how would he start with a topic like this?

He takes the highroad, the easy way, and simply takes her hand. Apparently a warm hand in hers was either just what she needed or the exact opposite, because suddenly he finds the small brunette in his arms, sobbing into his chest. He holds her tight and mumbles nonsensical words of comfort until she calms down slightly, which is when he picks her up and carries her inside (after unlocking the door and locking it again behind them).

She looks intently up into his face and says  
"Noah… Please, let me sleep beside you? I need you to hold me."  
There's no way he can refuse.  
He puts her down on the toilet seat while he draws a hot bath for her, using his mother's shower cream as impromptu bath bubbles. He lays out two fluffy towels beside the tub (one for her body and one for her hair. Whatever. He was raised by a single mother after all.) and asks her to stand up so he can help her undress. She's shaking too much to handle it on her own. He diverts his eyes (the fact that he can still catch glimpses of her underwear in the mirror is actually more due to the fact that they are lime green and kinda hard to ignore, and less because he is trying to. Yea, for real.) but tells her that she has to either get into the bath in her underwear, or get out of them on her own, because he really doesn't think he could handle her naked in his arms. Even now.

She promises that she can do it on her own, so he gets downstairs to make her a cup of hot cocoa, pick up a clean jersey from the laundry room and to borrow a book from his kid sister.

He carries the treasure upstairs, knocks on the bathroom door and immediately she tells him to "Please come inside, Noah. Keep talking to me? I feel safer when you're talking to me." In this shaky, insecure voice. He hates that voice.  
Rachel is supposed to be the opposite of weak and insecure.

Handing her the cocoa, he sits down on the toilet seat, looking everywhere except directly at the naked girl in the water. The bubbles are starting to pop one by one, and there aren't very many left. Trying to clear his mind, he shakes his head profusely.  
It doesn't help one bit, so he tells her that he'll be talking to her from the other side of the door, instead, and heads back into his bedroom to pick up his guitar.  
"Rachel, babe, I'm gonna sing to you instead. Is that okay?"

She says that it's perfect, and there's actually some strength and warmth back in her voice now.  
It makes his heart ache slightly less.

He starts strumming the guitar and sings

'_Lord, I feel the weight of a mountain  
Pressing down inside my soul  
I can see the pillars fallin'  
There ain't nothin' left to hold  
The reigns are broken too  
I can't steer this  
There's nothing I can do  
Except to throw my arms out_

_Take me to  
A place where love can mend these wounds  
Where mystery can dance with truth  
And the broken soul finds refuge__'_

Rachel opens the door to his room and slips into his bed while he's singing the chorus. She is dressed in his jersey, seemingly a bit more relaxed now, and she smells like strawberries and vanilla, thanks to some kind of mixture of the lotions and the shower gel. It's nothing like anything else, but Rachel. He takes a deep breath (deciding to never wash that jersey again - or at least not until after the scent of her is all gone) and continues to sing, while she settles under the duvet.

'_I get so tired of fighting  
Throwing punches in the dark  
When mystery's seduction  
Keeps a blindfold on my heart  
Oh, it seems too much  
God I fear this  
I'm longing for your touch  
And for your kisses_

_Take me to  
A place where love can mend these wounds  
Where mystery can dance with truth  
And the broken soul finds refuge_

_Can you calm this angry tide  
The fears and rage inside  
Won't you lead to the place where beauty dwells  
You go dancing on the hills  
And I won't rest until  
You take me to the place where beauty dwells__'_

Her breathing is slower, now, more at ease. He's wondering if she's asleep, but when he gets up to get out of his jeans, she reaches out a hand to him.  
"I'll be right there, babe" he says, and quickly he sheds the socks and the jeans.  
He slips down beneath the duvet with her, and picks up the book he brought from his kid sister's room. It's her favourite bed time story, and Puck is hoping that it'll put Rachel to sleep the way it does his sister. Pulling her into the warmth of his body, he starts reading and after a few pages, she snuggles up a little bit closer and lets out a deep sigh.  
She drifts off to sleep listening to his rough voice telling her a bed time story, and by the time he lays down the book and puts down the light, she is smiling softly in her sleep.

He kisses her hair and falls asleep with the tiny girl safely in his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_TYVM for the comments!  
Reviews = Love. Love = essential for my happiness so  
You = make me happy. _

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 6,  
Rachel's POV:**

She wakes up terrified, from a nightmare. It's dark and she doesn't know where she is, at first, but something is holding her down. A warm mass is bundled up behind her and it scares her stiff until she realizes that it's Noah's sleeping body she is feeling. She relaxes but cannot go back to sleep. Even when he's not awake, this boy is protecting her. His arms form a warm, safe cradle around her small body and his breath on her neck makes her feel warm inside. She isn't even surprised (much) anymore because she knows so well that there is so much more to Noah than what meets the eye.  
This is the safest she has felt in a long time, the most loved she's felt since before high school (her fathers excluded, of course) and she is starting to second guess her wish to get back together with Finn. Thinking about it, she really can't see Finn attempting to sing her to sleep, or read her a bed time story because she was scared. She is also pretty sure that Finn wouldn't have been able to sleep next to her for two nights without trying to get into her pants, no matter how scared she might have been when she climbed into his bed.  
Now, Noah… He held her up when her legs were too shaky to hold her, and he helped undress her without ever letting his hands stray…

She takes a deep breath and makes a decision.

* * *

**Puck's POV:**

He drifts from a dream about Rachel kissing him, into a reality of Rachel's lips on his, her tongue asking permission to enter his mouth by slowly and seductively licking his lower lip. Still not sure whether or not he is awake, he opens his mouth to her hot, sweet tongue but their kisses progress from slow, sensual and sleepy to heated and erotic as soon as the switch in his head tells him that this is ACTUALLY happening!  
Quickly flipping the girl onto her back, he leans into her, letting their upper bodies melt together while his lower body is resting beneath her legs, trapping her hips directly beneath his own. He pours all his longing into his kisses and soon, she is moaning and panting underneath him, wiggling her hips against him very adamantly.

He groans and breaks the kiss.  
"Rachel, babe…"  
She interrupts him.  
"Noah… I know you are a gentleman, and I know that you are unwilling to take advantage of me, but please understand that this is what I want. Really. I need you!" she pauses for a second and adds, in a very shy voice "Also… If it influences your decision making, I might add that I am, contrary to popular belief, in fact not a virgin… Unless… you just don't want me?" The sudden thought comes out before she can stop it, and he can hear the hurt in her voice as she adds the last sentence.

"I've never wanted anyone more"  
is all he can say, before he crashes his lips onto hers again, kissing her desperately and hotly. Her hands roam all over his body, caressing him and struggling to pull the tee over his head – which he is happy to help her achieve. Turning onto his back, he brings her on top of him where she can dictate the tempo. He's not really sure he can control himself enough to take it slow, if he's left in charge.

Rachel's hair sweeps over his torso in a half tickling, half teasing motion and he has to draw a deep breath, that leaves his lungs in a huff when she drags her fingernails across his chest, stopping to circle and then lightly pinch his nipple. She bends down and takes the ring in the other nipple between her teeth, and very gently tugs at it, while her hands roam over his chest and stomach.

He's so hard it is making him uncomfortable, even if he is just wearing boxers, and she is definitely not making him less so as she is slowly rotating her hips, pressing her hot centre down onto his hard cock. Deciding that he needs a little bit of space if this is not gonna be over WAY too soon for his liking, Puck flips her back onto her back and tugs at the jersey to make her stretch up her hands. He pulls the shirt over her head, but leaves it there, capturing her hands. "Don't move them" he growls.  
She seems to get turned on by his dominant style, because he isn't even touching her (right now) and she still mewls a little, and squirms, arching slightly towards him. "Please!" she exclaims and he laughs, a deep throaty sound that vibrates through her body and makes her moan again.

She isn't wearing a bra underneath the jersey. Just a pair of lime green, boy cut, lace panties that make him go slightly insane. Seeing her like this, in just a tiny scrap of lacy fabric and his jersey (number 20 and the name Puckerman emblazoned on her back, like an ownership statement), makes him feel very possessive and (honestly) extremely horny.  
He drags one finger from her neck, via the collarbone and down between her breasts, where the nipples are hard and erect, waiting for his touch. Teasingly, he continues the trail down to her navel and then drags it across her flat stomach, just above the lining of her panties. "Please!" she repeats, and he cocks his eyebrows to her and can't help but smile that smile of the cat that ate the canary.  
"Please what, babe?"  
"Please, touch me, Noah!" she says breathlessly so he pushes his fingernails lightly into her hips (which makes her buck upwards – but he quickly pushes her down again) and drags his hands down to her knees, drawing two sets of parallel lines with his nails on her flawless skin, hard enough to make her sigh out a breathless "mmmmm!", but without hurting her. Reaching her knees, he lets his fingers caress the thin skin on the underside for a second or two, and then he abruptly pulls her legs apart and places them on his hips.  
"Yea? Like this?" he says, letting his fingers play on the insides of her thighs while bending forward, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. The sound that leaves her throat is almost a scream of pleasure, and he takes that as a yes…

Sucking first one nipple, then the other, licking circles, flipping his tongue across the hard tip, he drags one finger across her hot, wet centre and he is happy to discover that her pants are soaking wet. The discovery makes him have to adjust his boxers, and he groans at the feeling of her wetness on the tip of his finger. Rachel starts to take her arms down, but he brusquely tells her not to, and she obeys, with one of those little mewls that tells his that she doesn't mind that he's bossy… at all…!

He sits back and quickly strips off her damp panties, then he just admires her wet, glistening pussy for a little while. The sight of her wetness is such a turn on he almost amazes himself by not rushing this.  
"Fuck, Rache… You're so wet for me… Do you have any idea how much I want you?" his voice is rough and throaty and she just whimpers at the sound, repeating her "Please…?"

With one finger, he caresses her slick folds, and with the other hand he's holding her bucking hips in place. He scoots down and pushes her legs further apart, bending down to taste her. Slowly, slowly, he drags his tongue across her wet, hot sex and he's not quite sure who gets more turned on by it… She is writing beneath him, so he picks up speed, quickly flicking his tongue over her clit, then circling it, sucking it into his mouth and biting down on it gently. She's panting hard now, and he knows there's not long before she climaxes, so he adds first one, and then another finger into her pussy, probing her gently at first, and when she arches her hips and almost sobs, he pushes them in and out at a quicker tempo, matching the flicks and licks of his tongue.

"You taste so good, and you're so fucking tight… I can't wait to fuck you…" he says. When her hips move faster (as a response to his words or his movements, or both – he doesn't know), he pushes his fingers even further in, and then curls them upwards as he pulls them out almost completely, and repeats in a steady rhythm. She shivers uncontrollably, and her breath is ragged now.  
"Come for me, babe. Let me taste you when you come…"

That tips her over the edge, and she comes apart against his hand, his name on her lips as she climaxes.

He keeps stroking her hips, stomach and thighs slowly, tenderly lapping up her juices until she comes down from her high and she asks in a very shaky voice, if she can take her hands down now?  
The deep, rustling laugh he lets out against her core has her shuddering with pleasure, and still smiling, he says that she can.

Obviously, she takes that as permission to take matters into her own hands, so to speak, and she quickly sits up, kissing him deeply and stroking his cock with one hand while tugging at his nipple ring with the other. He moans wordlessly at the feeling her small hands awaken in him. He can't remember ever having been this turned on, and he's silently wondering if he's gonna have to think about dead mailmen when she bows down, her pretty ass in the air, and licks the head of his cock… On hands and knees, she gazes up at him beneath thick lashes while her agile tongue swirl around his dick like it's a lollipop and when she takes it all into her mouth, he actually has to think about coach Tanaka for a few seconds, not to come in her mouth.  
The sensation is crazy intense and he doesn't get it. What is this chick DOING to him? He's never had a blow job feel anything close to this good. When she looks up at him with a mischievous grin and says "No gag reflex…." he understands. Oh my fucking goddess… She's actually swallowing around the head of his cock!  
He shakes his head and says "Babe. Sorry – but you have to stop or this'll be over before I even get to fuck you…!"

She looks at him, straightens up and kisses him deeply, before straddling him, rubbing the tip of his hard erection against her wet hotness…  
"Protection?" she asks, and he nods quickly, pulling a condom from the drawer in his night stand and rolling it onto his throbbing cock. She reaches down behind her back and strokes his balls, while sinking down onto him in one quick movement. Suddenly he's buried inside her and he takes a second to adjust, holding her hips in place to make sure she doesn't "persuade him to finish it too quickly"…

She's crazy tight and he's not sure how long he is gonna be able to hold on, so he reaches down between them, rubbing the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs in quick, hard motions while he pumps into her from beneath. She meets his thrusts fiercely and arches backwards to be able to caress his balls still, while he is thrusting into her.  
"Fuck … I'm gonna come soon… You feel so good… Come for me, babe. Scream my name…!"  
He bends his head forwards and bites down onto her nipple, still rubbing, circling, flicking at her clit. She opens her eyes wide and stares unseeingly into the ceiling, obediently screaming his name while she comes apart on top of him.  
The contractions inside her tight pussy pushes him over the edge as well, and with a primal groan, he follows her into oblivion.

When they fall asleep again that night, they're both smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 7,  
Puck's POV:**

_This was NOT how he intended to wake up the first morning after he and Rachel finally had sex. This wasn't even close to it. Actually, this wasn't how he'd ever wanted to wake up. Ever._

_His phone started ringing at 5 to 6. In the frigging morning. He'd have been SO pissed off it it had been anyone else. It was Quinn. Her stomach hurt and she was bleeding. She said she didn't have anyone else to call – so she called him.  
As he couldn't very well leave Rachel behind, he'd had to wake her up too and rush her off into his truck to pick up Quinn and get her to the hospital._

_That was four hours ago._

_

* * *

_

Now they're all just standing there in one of those sickly green painted rooms where no one dares to challenge fate by uttering a single word about the baby. Finn's in there with her now (he has been all along, but since he had been drinking the night before, he hadn't been able to drive. Needless to say, the drive from Quinn's house had been quite tense, considering the four people in the truck. Rachel and Finn had been sitting on the bed of the truck, not saying a word during the entire drive.) and Puck's biting his nails for the first time in ten years or so.

When Finn steps out, there's no need to ask anything. The boys face has fallen completely and his eyes look like he hasn't seen anything happy in his entire life. Quinn lost the baby.  
A doctor steps out and explains to them that the baby had some kind of genetic disease that made Quinn's body reject it. They're all crying, holding hands, hugging and seeking the comfort of body heat during this horrible time.  
It's just so hard to understand. What was a living foetus just a few hours ago, doesn't exist anymore.  
Finn is broken. It's like you can actually see his heart breaking inside of him.

Puck can relate. He feels as if his own heart has been torn out through his nasal cavity or something. His entire face is feeling kind of raw, but he can't bring himself to cry. It's like the tears are stuck inside his head, making his head ache so badly he almost wonders if a head can explode, like, for real.

He sees Rachel in the ugly, lumpy couch, holding Finn's hands and wiping the tears off from the tall boy's face, hugging him and telling him that she's there for him.

He can't take it. He stands up and walks through the door.

* * *

**Rachel's POV:  
**

She's known all along. This baby wasn't Finn's. There's just no way a baby can be conceived the way Quinn apparently told Finn that this baby was brought into their lives. No way. The problem is that Finn isn't quite as educated, and since he's only told Rachel of how the babymaking allegedly happened, no one can tell him about it. She refuses to burst that bubble.

She knows what happens to messengers, and for once, Rachel Berry is too scared to get caught in the crossfire!

* * *

**Quinn's POV:**

She cries. For hours on end, she just cries. She refuses to let anyone touch her, or even step close to her. They have to put down the boxes of tissues and glasses of water on her nightstand and then get out, because if they try to approach her or linger too long inside the room, she shies away from them, hiding herself within her arms and beneath the unsuitably cheerfully patterned hospital blanket, crying in a way that is so horrifyingly, clearly heartbroken that no one dares to try more than once. They think she is probably blaming herself, somehow.

She is, but not the way they think.

She is blaming herself because she was stupid enough to drink those wine coolers (and no, he didn't talk her into it. That was just an excuse she used, and she almost made herself believe it, too.) and accept the consolation Puck offered her that night. The night when she was upset because of this huge, crazy jealousy-fight she'd had with her boyfriend, over some Cheerio flirting with him, and she was afraid that he'd never want to see her again after the things she'd said. The night when she had taken advantage of Puck's willingness to hold her and reassure her, while she cried over his best friend. She'd used him to get back at Finn and to resurrect her self esteem. It hadn't been easy, Puck was a pretty loyal guy – but he'd been carrying a torch for Quinn for so long… He caved. Because that was how it happened. Not the other way around. She's ashamed of herself, and she feels sick to her stomach that she shot him down so callously when he tried to stand up for what they had done, and help her out.

Instead she'd lied. Again.

Being a Cheerio made you a liar. A smiling, shallow, pretty little liar.  
President of the Chastity Club. What a joke! She'd lost her v-card just before her 13:th birthday, at summer camp. And now, she's lost something much more valuable. The fruit of her forbidden tryst with her boyfriend's best buddy, and she didn't expect Finn to stay clueless for much longer.  
What is she gonna do then?

Most of all, she cries because she actually feels a little bit relieved.

Quinn isn't sure if hearts can actually break. But if they can, she's pretty sure hers is on the verge of bursting at any second now.

* * *

**Puck's POV:  
**

He calls one of the guys in the football team, whose brother is always up for making some extra cash in the hand by buying beer for them. An hour later, he's good to go.  
Screw beer, special cases like these calls for something stronger.

He drives off to the reservoir and brings his i-pod, a sleeping bag, dip and the bottle. He turned off his phone as he left the hospital and as soon as he reaches the water, he tosses his sleeping bag up onto the bed of his truck and busies himself with the task of drinking himself into forgetfulness.

The problem is that no matter how deeply he stares into the bottle, the memories always stay afloat on the surface.

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

She sees Puck sliding out the door, his entire body radiating a sense of anger and defeat. She wishes she could follow him, but Finn is breaking into tiny little pieces of a person in her arms, and he holds onto her like she's the only thing that can save him from disintegrating. How could she leave him like that? There's just no way. So she keeps stroking his hair, patting his back and wiping away his tears all while she is telling him that everything will be okay. Though, in reality, she seriously doubts that it will, she knows that she is supposed to be telling him that, right now. All while she is comforting him, holding him so tight to her body, her thoughts are drifting. It almost feels like a tiny part of her is missing. It left and slid out the door half an hour ago, she realizes.

That's when it hits her.

She isn't more in love with Finn than she'd be in love with her brother (if she had one). The idea of love, of a sweet boy to hold her and make her feel good, the dream… That is what she has been infatuated with. This boy, no matter how wonderful, is not hers and he never was. He belongs to Quinn and she knows now, without a doubt, that she will do whatever it takes to help the two of them stay together and survive through this mess.

Meanwhile, she is aching for Noah.

She needs his special brand of attention and sweetness, hidden so far behind the attitude and carelessness that he shows to the world. The façade that, come to think of it, she hasn't been seeing much of lately. As a matter of fact, he's been nothing but wonderful to her ever since they decided to keep their relationship up for the sake of making Finn jealous, and she has come to rely on him, trust him and care for him deeply.

She thinks she might even love him.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 8,  
Rachel's POV:**

They spend almost the entire day at the hospital, despite the fact that they're never allowed to see Quinn. Even Finn isn't allowed into her room, and he's looking like a kicked puppy when the doctors refuse him access. He's confused, a bit angry and very sad. Rachel reads him like an open book. He's always been easy like that, Finn – his emotions are raw and written across his face at any given moment. She likes the simplicity of that, but she is also missing the complexity which is Noah, the boy she may or may not love. (And what if she does? Will he reject her and kick her while she's down? She can't really see him loving her back.)

Noah, whom she cannot reach. His phone is turned off, ushering her calls immediately forward to voice mail.  
She's left several of them already, and she's really starting to worry.

* * *

**Puck's POV:**

Swirling the booze inside the bottle, he knows he should probably turn his phone back on, but he cannot bring himself to the point of actually doing it. He's aware that Rachel will have tried to reach him by now. At least he hopes so. Unless this mess gave her exactly what she wanted – Finn in her arms and him out of the way. There's a stab of pain to his guts at the thought and now he's too scared to turn on the phone. What if she hasn't called him? He couldn't handle that. Not right now.  
So he puts the bottle to his lips and drinks deeply, hoping that the alcohol will numb the pain in his heart.

His baby is dead.

And Rachel is entwined with Finn at the hospital.  
He thinks he's gonna throw up from the pain that runs viciously through him again, but that's when the alcohol does its job and he feels the hurt slowly easing to the point where it's almost, almost possible to handle.  
He's just so sick and tired of living this lie.

The following day, he's hungover like a sonuvabitch and he thinks he probably deserves it, like on some deep, karmic level. It's like some kind of cosmic payback for his decision to take the pain away for a little while. Now it's back, full force, and it's coupled up with this crazy headache that he can't shake no matter how many aspirins he downs.

He drives back to town as soon as he feels that he's able to, and gets a burger and a slushie to help with the craving for fat, sugar and salt. While he eats, he turns his phone back on.  
There are 9 missed phonecalls (Rachel has called him 5 times, San 1 and his mom 3) and 5 texts._  
Rachel: "We'll figure this out. Come back. Love/R"  
Rachel: "Where are you? Please return my calls! Love/R"  
Mom: "Come home, young man. We need to talk, and you need a hug, even if you probably think you're too old for that."  
Mom: "Ps. That Rachel girl has been here looking for you. She's worried too!"  
Rachel: "Noah, please call me. You're not alone in this! Love/R"_

Funny. He definitely **feels** alone.

He calls his mom first, letting her know that he'll be home soon. She's at work, but she's relieved to hear from him. They'll discuss this later, she says.  
He hesitates to call Rachel, but he finally pushes the call button. When she picks up (at the first signal, sounding all stressed out), he just tells her that he's tired as fuck, but he'll be home soon and she can come over if she feels like it. He flips the phone shut before he can hear her reply. He doesn't really want to hear it right now, and he's way too afraid that she'll say no.

His phone rings twice while he's in the shower, getting rid of the residue sweat and booze and god-knows-what that he's covered in after his night on the truck bed. He can't muster up the energy to get out and answer. He figures, if it's Rachel, she knows where the spare key is and if it's not Rachel he's not in the mood to talk anyway.

She arrives within half an hour after he got home, ringing the doorbell and marching past him as he opens the door for her. It's obvious that she is very angry, or at least he thinks so, but when she turns to face him her face is streaked with tears and there's not a smidge of makeup left around her blood shot eyes. She falls into him and hangs around his neck like a child, sobbing so deeply he can hardly hear her voice when she says "Noah… I was so frightened. Never leave me like that again!"  
And it feels like a small sun starts to shine behind the grey clouds. She cares about HIM too.

The loneliness subsides as he holds her tight, whispering "I'm sorry's" and "forgive me's" into her ear.

Suddenly she stands up straight, backs away from him with an angry look and slaps him squarely across the face. "Never EVER scare me like that again, Noah!" she lets out, and then she's back, pressed into him, wetting his shirt with her tears. He lifts her up and carries her to the couch, sitting down with her on his lap. No way in hell would he, just a week ago, ever have accepted being slapped like that, except… this time he knows that he deserved it.

They fall asleep on the couch, curled up against each other like small children, looking for comfort in the only place they know where to find it.

* * *

Their lives go on, even if Quinn is still in the hospital, refusing to see anyone at first.

Her parents happily pay the hospital bill, even if they never show up to make sure she's doing okay. They send flowers every day, and Quinn religiously tosses them in the waste basket as soon as she gets them. Every day, the expensive, delicate, loveless bouquets makes her cry like her life depended on it, again. However, as the days pass, she is slowly starting to let people inside her bubble. It starts with Finn, and the next person she asks for (which surprises most everyone) is Rachel.  
They talk. About nothing, really. School, fashion, music, movies… It's like Quinn is just happy to be distracted for a little while. Probably because that's exactly the case. She asks Rachel to sing to her, and Rachel happily complies to the blonde's wish.

The next person who gets allowed into her room is Puck. Rachel stays out in the foyer (claiming that she needs to go to the cafeteria and get something to drink and possibly also pop by the drug store for some aspirin, but they both know an excuse when they hear it) and lets them talk privately.  
As soon as Quinn sets eyes on him, she bursts into tears. They hug while simultaneously asking for, and giving each other, forgiveness and it's almost a nice moment where they clean the air about what has happened. Until Finn bursts through the door.

Puck has never seen the Golden Boy looking like this. He looks mad, ruffled up and dishevelled like he's been drinking heavily or like something inside his head has snapped. Maybe it has, because the first words (in an ice cold, detached voice that scares Puck more than it would if Finn had sounded pissed-off or even violent) out of his mouth, as he leans over Quinn's rickety hospital bed is  
"I know you lied. Whose baby was it?"

Just like that, with 8 little words, their worlds are torn to the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

As always: Thank you, Anna, my amazing BETA. Love you!

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 9, ****  
Puck's POV:**

Finn's body was so tense that he was shaking, rattling the bed Quinn was lying in because he was leaning over her, sort of resting his knees against the frame of the bed. Quinn's mouth opened wordlessly and her big eyes once again filled up with tears.

Rachel was standing in the opening between the drapes Finn had torn apart and she was looking straight at him, before rushing over to Quinn's side, sitting on the side of the bed, holding the blonde's hand and stroking her hair.  
"I… I…" Quinn stammered.  
Finn just glared down at her and repeated  
"Whose?"  
His body language was getting more threatening by the minute and the weak sadness in his voice was giving way to anger now. Clenching his fists at the sides of his body, he leaned closer in over Quinn and repeated  
"Whose baby was it?"

Puck cleared his throat and calmly confessed. "Mine, Finn. The baby was mine."  
The first blow landed on his chin before he even had time to react. The second blow, he saw coming a mile away but he didn't care to try and deflect it. He just took it. By the fourth blow, Finn was crying and Pucks nose was bleeding, his eyebrow cracked and his upper lip had a deep cut to it. He swallowed the blood in his mouth, still not guarding himself against the punches, when Finn suddenly slumped towards him, crying against his shoulder. Unsure whether or not the other boy would allow him to offer any kind of consolation, he just stood there at first, but when Finn's knees buckled under him, he caught the boy, half pushing half carrying him into a chair in the corner of the little room. Putting his hand on the crying boy's shoulder, he smoothly lied, again, to protect the people he cared about:

"I'm sorry, man. I messed up. Don't take it out on Quinn, it wasn't her fault."

Finn's head jerked up and his eyes were deadly when he coolly replied  
"Of course it was you. It's always you. You ruin everything."

Puck didn't defend himself against that blow either, but this one hurt him so much more than the physical punches had done.

* * *

Several hours later, Rachel and Puck leaves the hospital. Him with stitches in his eyebrow and the beginnings of a black eye and a swollen lip, arm around her shoulder, like he is incapable of holding himself upright... He is a mess.  
Confiscating his car keys she tells him she'll drive him home. He doesn't object. When she leaves him (she has to get home, or she would gladly stay) with his mother, he is still stiff as a board, silent and dry eyed.

He just sits there, feeling tired and numb as his mother buzzes around him, trying to comfort him, offering cake and cinnamon rolls (nothing says care to his mom like snacks and food), handing him a bottle of water (he just stares at it and can't figure out what she wants him to do with it) and trying to hug him but laying off as she gets absolutely no response out of his stiff body. It isn't that he doesn't want her hugs, it's more a sense of confusion – almost like he can't remember how to actually lift his arms and place them around her.

The only thought that keeps spinning around in his head is exactly three words long, and it is the one that killed his entire childhood. Took away the only safety net he'd had after his dad left (and his mother crashed down into a depression, leaving him to pretty much fend for himself). For every time the words plays themselves inside his head, he feels less and less alive.

Finn hates me.

* * *

That evening, he gets an unexpected call from Quinn. She isn't able talk long (there's obviously some kind of line for the phone. Her parents hasn't bothered to pay for a separate phone to her sick bed, as they are't planning on calling her. It makes him sick to think of their callousness!) but she says that she wants him to know that she's told Finn the truth. The real truth. The one where Puck wasn't the bad guy, but just… the guy. The same truth where he'd so desperately tried to do the right thing, while she hadn't let him.

She finishes her call quickly.  
"I hope you can work it out, Noah. I am sorry I ever got between you two. Forgive me."

That's the first time she's called him Noah, instead of Puck. He understands that it is her way of underlining what she's said and the sincerity of it gets to him, making sure that the tears finally break through his barrier, so he sinks to the floor, receiver still clutched in his hand when deep, desperate sobs starts wrecking his body, making him shake as the sadness, angst and hopelessness finally expresses itself.

* * *

**Finn's POV:**

Puck. Always Puck. Sometimes he wonders if there was anything that guy won't do to cross a line. He is like a Pavlovian dog or something – seeing a "Do not enter" sign makes him climb fences and cross rivers, just to oppose the rules. It's like he can't resist it.

To be perfectly honest, that isn't quite true, either. Finn hadn't wanted to hear Quinn out on this, even if he'd known, somehow, all along. The little voice in the back of his head had always been telling him that things weren't what they seemed to be, and that the baby Quinn was carrying wasn't his.  
It all sort of made sense. He'd known about Puck's hopeless, long lasting crush on Quinn. He even rubbed his best friend's face in it, on more than one occasion, and he hadn't exactly been gracious about the fact that HE had the girl they both wanted. Puck never admitted as much, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. (Finn is quite aware that intelligence isn't exactly his strongest trait.)

If he allows himself to focus on something apart from the fact that he's hurt and feels betrayed, he can even understand how it'd happened. Quinn explained it to him. How his fling with the Cheerio made her feel insecure and fat, thus desperate for someone to tell her that she was beautiful and desirable. She'd had those wine coolers by her own choice and she had been the one who came on to the boy she knew so well was infatuated with her.

The fight they'd had that night had been ugly. Full of low blows and foul accusations. He had been quite surprised that they'd been able to reconnect afterwards and he knows that it was mostly Quinn's willingness to forgive that made it possible. She'd worked so hard for it, while he'd been the stubborn one who held onto his grudge.  
Maybe it's time he learns from her?

He isn't sure he'll be able to get over this in a hurry, but the fact of the matter is that he would have cared for the baby, even if she'd have told him straight up that it had been fathered by his best friend, and not him. It'll take some time for him to get over this.  
But right now, Quinn needs him – and he intends to be there for her, this time.

Finn might not be the sharpest tack… but he is definitely one of the few remaining gentlemen, and when he loves, he loves with all his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Disclaimer:_**_  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_Love to Anna for being the bestest BETA a girl could ever wish for.  
_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 10,  
Rachel's POV:**

Coming home that night, she feels exhausted and depressed, so when her fathers call on her from the living room she desperately hopes that she could just cut it short and get to bed.  
No such luck.

In the couch, opposite of her dads, there's a small, pretty brunette in her late 30:s. She stares, wide eyed, as Rachel enters the room, and she seems unsure whether or not she should get up, so she sort of bounces in her seat, half getting up, then dropping down – and repeating that indecisively. Rachel nods politely and says hello, after which she turns to her fathers and asks if she might please be excused for the night?  
Her fathers exchange a glance and say "Sorry, bunny, not tonight. There is something very important we need to discuss." A pregnant silence fills the room. Rachel sits down in her favourite chair and tries not to yawn (it is, after all, of utmost importance to always be polite) while she nods a go ahead towards the adults in the room.  
The brunette clears her throat and hesitatingly starts talking.  
"Rachel… I know I have scared you in the past. It wasn't my intention, but please, allow me to explain. I am your birth mother…"

The story unravels. Everything her fathers have told her about how she was conceived, is true (Rachel is quite relieved and happy to hear that!) and her mother had moved off to New York after giving birth to Rachel, and handing her over to her loving fathers. The two men had offered to send her updates and photos, but at the time, she wanted nothing to do with the baby she'd given up. "It hurt too much", she explains.  
Lately, though, she has gotten engaged to be married to a wonderful man and in the whirlwind of emotions proceeding the marriage, she'd started wondering what had happened to the beautiful girl she'd given up, all those years ago.  
"So, you see, I hired a private investigator. He wasn't bad. He brought me information and photos, but on the latest update, he let it slip that you must have seen him once and that it had scared you badly since you'd been crying, and calling your boyfriend…" she pauses "…and I must add that I am very happy to hear that you have such a sweet boyfriend, who is so protective of you. Anyhow. I was shocked and appalled, as you might imagine! I only ever wanted to know that you were doing alright, but to hear that he had scared you… It made me sick and I realized that I had to explain it to you. I guess that's the natural protectiveness of a mother… So now I'm here. I contacted your fathers and they kindly invited me to your home to meet you and to let you know… all of this…"  
She grows silent and watches Rachel hesitantly.

That is when Rachel proud shoulders finally can't carry the weight anymore. She stands up and takes one step towards the middle of the room before the events of the past few days crash down on her and she tumbles to the floor, crying and sobbing desperately. For once, she is comforted by both her fathers and her brand new mother. In the middle of her breakdown, she actually manages to feel extremely happy and spoiled to have three loving parents hold her, hush and hum to her and wipe away her tears, no questions asked.

Just like Quinn's baby would have had.

She cannot stop crying, and she distantly feels her father (the bigger one) carrying her to her room, where she's tucked into bed and her mother sings her a lullaby (Rachel vaguely recognizes her voice, and realizes that it's because she has apparently inherited her mother's singing voice) and lulls her off to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Rachel wakes up at six but doesn't feel like her usual protein shake (with banana and flax seed) or working out on the elliptical. Instead, she takes a real long, luxurious shower, washing, shaving, peeling, moisturizing and plucking. When she's finally out and dressed, it's past seven and she's greeted by the smell of (vegan) blueberry pancakes from the kitchen. Her fathers are expecting her, and she happily hugs them both before sitting down to eat. While eating, she shares the story of Quinn's miscarriage and the baby daddy that wasn't and the baby daddy that actually was.

They don't judge, they just listen and when she's finished, a simple question is asked:  
"So… This boy who actually was the father, and who tried doing the right thing – is he the same boy that came to fetch you when you were scared of that private eye?"  
She nods, with her mouth full of pancake.  
"…and he is your boyfriend?"  
She nods again, albeit slightly less adamantly this time, because she's not sure if Noah will be her boyfriend now, or if their play act is over, now…  
Her fathers just nods back, looking rather pleased. "Any boy who puts the safety of our little girl in front of his own, is welcome in our house, any time. Oh, and by the way, your mother left a note with her name and number. She says she's hoping you can stay in touch, but it's up to you."

On any other day, any regular day, Rachel wouldn't have been able to contain herself. She'd have immediately called her "new" mother to set up a date to meet. Today, however, is not like any other day.

She's got to see Noah.

* * *

**Puck's POV:**

He's not exactly in the best shape of his life when the doorbell rings. He's still wasted from the booze he drank when he came home, to drown out that look on Finn's face when he'd said  
"Of course it was you. It's always you. You ruin everything."  
Just thinking about that shit makes his stomach churn and he's pretty sure he'll be vomiting his guts out in a few minutes, but he still gets up, puts on his sunglasses (the light is fucking killing him) and some cutoffs, and walks down the stairs to open up as he expects it to be Rachel. Who else would show up at seven and ring the bell? (Luckily his mom's working and the kid's away on some playdate or whatever.) He's right. The tiny brunette is standing on his porch, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He doesn't quite get why she looks so scared, but he tells her to come inside.  
"Make some coffee, okay? I'll just take a shower. I fucking stink."

She doesn't outright agree, but the way she says nothing at all pretty much speaks for itself, so he gets into the shower (he has to puke first, but whatever. It's not like he didn't expect that.) and brushes his teeth while lathering up and rinsing off. Multi tasking even while he's fucking hungover like a motherfucker – he's a badass for sure!

Coming down the stairs (less wobbly now) dressed in jeans and a tee. He's not gonna bother with socks because  
a. It's too fucking much of a fuss right now  
b. It's too hot for socks. Or maybe it's just the hangover making him feel feverish?  
c. If he bent over he'd probably just throw up again and he's had enough of upchuck pyrotechnics for one morning, thank you very much.  
Turning the corner, the scent of coffee hits his nostrils and he feel better already. There's something else too, but he can't make it out clearly until he leans into the kitchen where Rachel's standing, dish towel wrapped around her slender waist as a make-shift apron.  
It looks hot, somehow, but he's too fucking tired to wreck his brain and figure out why.

She turns to him and explains that she "Took the liberty of ransacking your kitchen cabinets but as I found nothing of appropriate nutritional value, I decided to instead bake some fresh scones for you, as you seem to be in dire need of something to cushion the insides of your stomach from the blow of alcohol you doubtlessly dealt it during the night, judging from your shakiness and the considerable paleness of your face." He just stares at her.  
"Fucking English for dummies, okay, Rache? Shit!"  
She actually grins at him, and yet again, she ignores his profanities.  
"I made you some scones. You looked like you needed it." So THAT was the unfamiliar scent he'd detected. Scones. He hasn't had scones in like... ten years. Since before his nana got too old and confused to bake or whatever.  
"Fuck, woman. Marry me!"

She just turns to get the scones, and he can see her shoulders shaking slightly with laughter, as she lets out a small giggle. She turns back to him and lewdly, with a cheeky grin, replies  
"Well, Noah! Had I known about your fondness for scones, I'd have played that card long ago!" and again, she surprises him, as she winks at him while putting down a plate of scones beside the coffee mugs on the table. He almost sputters his coffee all over the table when he cracks up, laughing at her unexpected joke. The sight of him, fighting to swallow down the mouthful of coffee - rather than spraypainting her scones with it - makes her giggle, too.  
It's sort of relaxing, this situation. His hangover is receding quickly, as he digs into the bread and happily devours every single piece Rachel doesn't lay claim on. They spend the following 15 minutes or so in silence, enjoying the scones (at least he does. She just breaks off a piece too small for filling up a hamster and slowly nibbles away at it, making his stomach feel uncomfortably full when he's done, as he eats the rest), the coffee and the company.

Both of them know that they're gonna have to talk soon, but they're in no hurry to break the silence for now.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer:  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 11,  
Puck's POV:**

It has to be said. He fought it for as long as he possibly could, just savouring these fleeting moments of peace with Rachel, the breakfast and the soft music from the radio (which she, of course, hums along with. He isn't sure she's even aware that she does that, but it's like music is coming out of her pores, sometimes. Like her movements are more like dance and she sings more than she speaks. It had unnerved him at first – just another Crazy-Berry-thing she did but he'd grown sort of used to it now, and he kinda misses it when she's not around. Life just gets so quiet and still without her constant movement, chattering and singing. He is well aware that an admission like that would totally deduct from his badassness and he'd never say it out loud. At least not in those words.) but it has to come out, sometime.

He shoots her a sideways glance and is caught immediately.  
"Noah, we need to talk."  
Fuck. Here goes nothing.  
"Yea. S'just so fucked up... Shit. You knew?"  
"I had my suspicions, and they were affirmed when you stood up for Quinn like that. It was admirable, by the way, what you did. Very... Um... Badass."  
He just can't keep a straight face when she utters those words. Trying desperately, honesttogod trying, it's simply impossible to let it go uncommented. He reaches out a hand to tug on one of her long, brown locks and sends her one of the few genuine smiles he has on his repertoire (not one that came from his panty-dropping-stash either. Just a smile, because it happened to appear without him consciously even trying to plaster it on.) and says  
"Yup. 'Very... Um... Badass' indeed, babe!" She blushes slightly and he thinks it looks adorable.

Shit.  
Get it together Puckerman, you pussy!

"So, you basically figured I'd fucked this up too?" he continues in a voice much harsher than he originally intended. The blush fades from her cheeks just as quickly as the glitter fades from her eyes and the smile from her lips. She's downright pale now and she looks like he's slapped her. He kinda feels like he did too, and he regrets it, but no way will he admit to that, so he just shrugs and cocks an eyebrow to her.  
"Because I'm a Lima loser, right?"

He hates the way her eyes tear up.

"Fuck. Rache – I'm sorry. I'm a jackass!"  
He falls to his knees beside the chair she's sitting in. Yea, it might be a pussy-move but he can't stand the way she looks so goddamn hurt because of his pride. He stares at her, trying to will her into smiling again, forgiving him, being the happy, sweet, scone-making girl she was two minutes ago, before he opened his fucking mouth and destroyed the peace.

She doesn't miss a beat. She slides off the chair, into his arms, sobbing against his shoulder trying desperately to sound coherent when she manages to stutter out  
"It was my mother. Outside my window. It was my mother."

She explains it all to him for about an hour. Every single detail. They rehash it and go over it again after it's been repeated so many times the words are starting to feel hollow. None of them even remember that happy feeling they had during their breakfast, but somehow they both want it back. He's still holding her in his arms. They're on the couch now, and she's on his lap, tears have dried out and he's wiped all of them off from her face using his thumb and about half a box of tissues. It's almost impossible to see that she was dissolved in tears earlier, if it wasn't for the fact that her nose is slightly red. It has her looking a little funny, sweet and very fragile at the same time and he finds himself wanting to take care of her.

Stroking her back, he nuzzles his nose into her fragrant hair, fascinated by the fact that she still smells like strawberry and vanilla, even if she most certainly haven't been using his mom's shower products lately. It must be her own scent, and it's making him want to do other things to her – because that scent makes him remember stuff that happened the last time she was in his arms, dressed in his jersey (he still hasn't washed it, and he's not intending to. Luckily he has more than one.) and smelling like this.  
Maybe she has the same flashback, or maybe she's just taken by the fact that his hands caress her neck and lower back in a very seductive way (he doesn't even know. They do it on their own, somehow.) because suddenly her head flies up and her lips crash into his.  
She kisses him like the world depended on it, and when she stops, she stares into his eyes and says  
"Noah... Make me feel good again. Please..."

His breath hitches and he hesitates. Not for long, because she is kissing the pulse point in his neck, slinging her leg across his lap so that she's straddling him instead and she starts grinding down onto him while her small hands slip up the back of his tee, tugging at the hem. Her eyes look like they're begging him and he cannot resist, There's just no way, even if he'd have wanted to (which he doesn't). He leans into her, kissing her deeply while picking her up and carrying her up the stairs.  
"Good thing you're so fucking small, Berry...!"  
She ACTUALLY (and he's not making this up because it'd be hot. Really!) cocks her eyebrow up at him, and replies "Well… You certainly are nothing of the kind so let's hurry up and put that dissimilarity to good use, Noah…!" He about chokes and he is hoping to god that she meant it as the innuendo he heard, because.. Well, fuck, that shit is HOT!

Tossing her down onto the bed, he wastes no time but quickly slips in between her legs and nudges them apart with his knees. She tugs at his shirt again and he pulls it over his head, tossing it across the room (missing the hamper – but hey, points for trying, right?) while he focuses on making her squirm beneath him. He vividly remembers the way he made her moan, sigh and scream his name the last time she was lying underneath him in this bed and he'd dead set to make her sound like that again. Bonus point if he can get her to talk dirty. (He's not got too high hopes staked on that one, but hey… a man can dream!)

Slowly and gently, he pushes her into the mattress, kissing her neck, her collarbone, her ear, her temple and her pulsepoint until she takes his head in her hands and holds him still long enough for her to mesh her lips against his, nipping at his lower lip. He immediately grants her access to his mouth and their tongues play slowly at first, but their pace increase as their breaths speed up and their bodies react to the situation. Rachel breaks the kiss, only to toss her shirt to the floor beside them and start unbuttoning his jeans. He stops her with a grin.  
"Not wearing boxers…"  
"I honestly do not care in the slightest, Noah. It's not like I wasn't gonna take them off of you, soon, anyway!"  
That is seriously the hottest thing he's ever heard in bed and he wonders if it can be construed as dirty talk, Rachel Berry-style? It's like the sexy librarian fantasy came to life underneath him, the way she says things. He doesn't get too far into that thought, as Rachel quickly undoes his belt and unbuttons his jeans (she's a quick learner, this girl!), sliding them down as far as she can reach. He quickly kicks them to the side and lends down to kiss her breasts through the fabric of her bra.

He eases her skirt off from her while he's still caressing her breast with the other hand and when he gently bites down onto her nipple she mewls and arches her back upwards. He leans back to just watch her. She's lying in front of him dressed in a matching set of white, see-through mesh underwear that has little pink bows on it, on her hipbones, above the cups of her bra and between her breasts. It looks insanely tempting and innocent at the same time. He likes that. It fits her.

Enough of the creepy oogling and on with the making out, he tells himself, and he leans back into her, getting met halfway by her mouth and her hot kisses. Her hands are dangerously low on his hips now and she grinds into him with a frenzy that has him wondering how long this is gonna last. When she responds to his deep kisses and his hands that play with her nipples with a gasp, he's pretty sure that… not long. Is how long it'll last.

He draws back slightly because frankly, the feeling of her hot, wet core through the silky mesh of her panties is just a bit more than he can handle right now, unless he's gonna ditch the old Puckerman rule "Ladies first" so instead, he gets on his knees by the side of the bed, pulling her down with him so that her legs are on either side of his shoulders, removing her panties with a swift move of his thumbs. He places her thighs on his shoulders, and blows a cool breath across her wetness. Her breath hitches and she lets out a small gush of air that sounds like "Oh God!" but he's not sure, so he drags one fingers across her slick folds, gathering up the wetness and flicking it across her clit.  
This time, he's sure she says it.  
"It's Noah, actually, but thanks" he replies with a smirk, not even stopping to consider that he said Noah and not Puck.

He runs his tongue in between her lower lips and she shakes violently from the pleasure. Violently enough that he has to place one hand on top of her hips and push her down into the mattress to gain the control that he loves. She seems to love it too, because when he sternly tells her to keep still, she replies with a slight moan and he remembers that she seemed to get off of his dominance the last time around.  
"You're a very naughty girl, Rache, and I own you, so you'd better do as I say" he adds, and the shake that seems to awaken in her body at the mere sound of his words, make him grin against her center. Yea, this'll be fun…!

He licks her deftly again, and as his teeth catch her clit he pushes one finger inside her. She is panting now and he pushes another in beside it. Her hips are bucking slightly until he tells her to "Keep still" and she seems to get wetter and tighter immediately. His tongue is swirling, circling, flicking around her clit while his fingers work her pussy. He pushes them deep and scissor them on the way out, bending and stretching them to make sure he hits that spot inside her that makes her writhe beneath him.  
She's moaning aloud now and he can't resist but palming his hard length, stroking it in time with his thrusts into her wet depth. He can feel the contractions starting to build up, and she's tightening even more around his fingers, so he pulls out and blows at her again.  
"No… No. Please!" she moans  
"Tell me what you want" he replies, smugly and well aware that; this girl? She's gonna come apart if he so much as touches her right now. Her chest is flushed and her pupils dilated when she stares at him and whispers  
"Please… Make me come."  
"My pleasure" he replies quickly, before plunging two fingers into her, pushing them in and out while curling them upwards and sucking hard on her clit at the same time.  
She climaxes almost immediately, and his name falls from her beautiful, soft mouth as she squeezes her eyes shut and yells his name, laced with some incoherent moans (he's pretty sure he can hear the words "yes" and "God" there, and something that MIGHT be "fuck" – or possibly "Puck"… And no matter what she says, he loves the horse sound of her voice when she's coming apart against his face.)

He keeps his fingers buried deep inside her as the aftershocks of her orgasm shakes her, and then he licks his fingers clean from her juices (which makes her eyes grow wide and causes her mouth to fall open in something he thinks is equal parts surprise and arousal). He kisses her afterwards and she doesn't shy away from the taste of herself on his lips. He finds that extremely hot.  
Still on the edge of the bed, she pushes one hand in between them and finds his pulsing, hard cock. She wets one finger in her mouth and runs it against the slit on the head of it, which makes him grunt and grab her hips.  
To his shock she moves on down so far her ass must be hanging out from the bed, and she locks her legs around his waist. "Come inside me, Noah…" she whispers and he closes his eyes at the electric feeling that fills him up as she nudges his cock against her entrance.

He pulls a condom from the wallet in his jean-pocket and kisses her deeply while he drives his hardness deep inside of her, rocking rapidly back and forth, his own climax not far away now. He lifts her legs up on his shoulders (thank goodness for dance lessons – she's really flexible) and pins her arms down above her head while he pushes inside of her hard. The i-pod that played in the background has gone quiet and all he can hear is the sound of their bodies slapping together, her heavy breaths and his own grunts as he feels the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach.  
He knows what that means and he relishes the feeling.

Not willing to leave her hanging, he lifts her up and flips her over. "Hands and knees" he whispers into her ear, and she obeys immediately, her round ass pressing into his stomach. He caresses it lovingly and gives it a slap or two for good measure (something that has her inhaling in a way he's pretty sure is pure lust). He reaches down the front of her slender body and his fingers find the nub between her legs that signal the joint of nerves. Rubbing at it with one hand, he uses the other hand to grip her hips, forcing her body to rock back as he drives into her, fucking her hard, deep and with a raw need that reverberates through both their bodies.  
She tosses her hair over one shoulder and leans her head slightly backwards as her breaths and moans increase in both speed and strength, eyes closed and mouth half open.  
"Let go, baby. Come for me" he groans into her ear, and just like that, she is coming around him in contractions that feel so unbelievably good that he sees stars for a second.  
"Oh my God, Noah… Yes! YES!" she screams as she climaxes again, and he pushes hard into her one more time, before he feels his balls contracting and his dick pulsing as he reaches his own private paradise inside her, and the name "Rachel" tumble from his lips.

For a while, everything feels like it's okay, after all.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer:  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_All the things I spell correctly is courtesy of the best BETA in the world: my darling Anna. Luvs ya babe!  
_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 12,  
Rachel's POV:**

He takes her hand just as she's drifting off to some kind of daydreaming state of almost sleep. It makes her smile, though her eyelids feel too heavy to be opened ever again. She's just going to rest for a minute, that's it.

She wakes up when he gently but urgently shakes her.  
"Berry! Wake up, for fuck's sakes! Finn's here and he can't see you!"  
It takes her a second to compute the fact that  
a. Finn is here.  
b. They had a seriously peaceful and wonderful moment after breakfast when she spilled her guts about the stalker/mother-deal , he held her close and comforted her and it felt like they really, really respected and cared for each other the way they are, and not for what they could be or should be.  
c. She's just (or maybe a few hours ago, judging from the alarm clock on his bedside table…!) had mindblowing, world altering, two-amazing-orgasms-in-a-row-sex with Noah Puckerman. Again.  
d. He is back to calling her Berry – what's with that? And why does she have to leave because Finn's here, anyway? Besides, what's his plan? Chucking her out the window and having her climb down? Or making her hide, like a disobedient child, in his little sister's room?

Apparently that is exactly what he is planning and she stares at him in disbelief.  
"Listen, Berry… You need to get a move on. NOW!"  
He turns his back to her and runs down the stairs so quickly she can't distinguish one step from another. It's just one rapid blur of thunderous drum rolls as his feet scramble towards the front door.  
She can hear Finn's voice downstairs but she cannot make out what he's saying. Silently gathering her clothes, she dresses and deep shame colours her cheeks and she peeks out the window and realizes that there's just no way she can make it down on the trellis, no matter how many times Puck has climbed it (he swears it's like a ladder. She's sure it is, and she is terrified of ladders.) there's just no way she can do it. Barefoot with her shoes in her hands and her cheeks a deep crimson, she listens until she hears the two boys move into the living room, and then she sneaks down the stairs, silently praising Puck for telling her that the third step from the top creaks, and that you have to step as far to the left as you can to be able to prevent it, as she tiptoes into Puck's little sisters room.

She doesn't wait there though. She pushes the window open and climbs out, now she's on the bottom floor, puts her shoes on and starts walking the long way home. (Not that she doesn't run farther on her elliptical every morning, but when she does, she's in her trainers and not in some stupid wraparound ballerinas that are super cute but that gives her blisters!)  
Luckily, when she gets home, her fathers aren't in. A note on the kitchen table says that they're grocery shopping and will be home in time to make dinner, and that she really should stay in since they're making vegan spring rolls, which are her favourites.

Her phone keeps beeping every five minutes or so and she sees his number flash on the screen every time, but she is too angry, humiliated and disappointed to even bother reading. She erases his messages unread. After an hour (while her dads are home, making dinner) he calls her and she doesn't pick up. The third time he calls, she presses disconnect immediately and then turns off the sound. When dinner is eaten and she is done with the dishes, she takes the phone back up to her room and sees that one more phonecall has been made from Noah Puckerman's phone to hers. It sort of pinches in her chest when she erases his numbers and the new message he's sent, but there is just no way she can forgive him for treating her like a dirty little secret.

Especially since she was starting to believe that this? It meant something. It hurts her that she was so wrong.

* * *

**Puck's POV:**

He watches her drift away to sleep. She looks extremely peaceful with her full lips slightly parted and the post-coital flush still colouring her cheeks. She's gorgeous, and he doesn't care if that makes him sound like a pussy. He takes her hand, simply because he can't resist touching her and because her little hand feels so good in his. A slight smile curves her lips and something he never knew was closed opens up inside his chest, making him feel like sunshine, warmth and butterflies reside in his stomach. He's content and for a little while, he loves being him.

Then the doorbell rings. At first he thinks he's not gonna bother, but he doesn't want the person at the door waking up Rachel, so he rolls out of bed carefully and slips his hand free from hers (she frowns a little at the loss of contact) to check through the window.

It's Finn. He looks like he's gonna punch something, and Puck realizes that "something" is probably gonna be this face, that Rachel so gently caressed a few hours ago. He also knows that if Finn sees her here, he'll explode, taking them both down with him. The Golden Boy will turn heaven and earth upside down to fuck his old best friend over right now, and Puck has no doubt that seeing Rachel here (especially with her hair mussed up from sex and her lips still swollen from the kisses they shared) will be the straw that broke the camel's back. Puck's not quite sure whether it's destroy Finn to see her like this – or if it'd destroy Rachel that he did. All he knows for sure is that he needs to protect them both from that brand of heartache right now, so he makes a decision, shaking Rachel to life and trying to get her to hide.

After Finn's done yelling, hammering away at Puck's chest and eventually ending up on Puck's bed (he actually managed to make the bed – sloppily but still – while Finn was in the loo and it doesn't smell like sex anymore since he opened the window when he checked to see who the visitor was, and never closed it. Thank God for small mercies!), bawling his eyes out. Puck sits down next to him, pats his back from time to time and offers him a beer. He knows how much the tall quarterback hurts right now, and no matter how much Puck's fucked his life up by sleeping with Quinn that night, there's not much he wouldn't do to try and ease the pain his friend is going through.

They end up at some kind of Status Quo.  
When Finn leaves, Puck immediately runs into his kid sister's room to let Rachel out, but she's not there. The window is open and it's freezing in there (as was it in his own room) and there's no sign of the girl who spent the morning making his life feel better than it had in ages.

He texts her a few times during the following hour, while he's slouching on the couch watching some dude on TV like training dogs or whatever. He's kinda good, to be honest, and he has this badass pit bull too, that obeys him like nobody's business. Puck wants a dog like that.  
_Puck: "Babe, he's gone, ru close? Sry I made u hide! Come back?"_  
She doesn't answer that so he tries again, smiling a little as he admits to missing her.  
_Puck: "Hello? U there? I miss u"_

Time is ticking by and it's getting annoying, how silent his phone is. He does get a text and he checks it immediately, but it's from Brittany who's apparently messed up the mail-to-text-function on her phone, forwarding a reply to every single person on her contact list. Again. It's a sexts too and it's kinda hot, involving her bending over backwards. He knows about that talent in detail… She's extremely bendable – and extremely willing to experiment… That's one blow-job he'll never forget. (And chocolate sauce, frankly, will never be the same again.)  
Still, she's not Rachel and it bugs him that she won't answer. He tries again._  
Puck: "Hey, Berry! Call me?"_  
and after a while, he tries calling her a couple of times, but she still doesn't pick up, so soon he is pissed enough to send another one  
_Puck: "Ignore me much?"_

And she does.

He's fuming as he heats up some TV-dinner for his mom, his sister & himself, and when they've all eaten, he just tosses the plate into the dishwasher and mutters something about homework before he stomps up the stairs and throws himself on the bed, picking out the x-box.

After killing a few rounds of stupid ass aliens, he feels a bit better so he checks the phone. No messages. No calls. Bitch.  
Those fucking aliens won't know what hit them.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer:  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_Every correct spelling (in this chapter as well as the others), is courtesy of the world's most fantastic BETA: My sweet Anna.  
_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 13,  
Puck's POV**

He calls her again before school on Monday, just to make sure. She doesn't answer and he's getting to the point where he's mad enough to want to punch something. He hasn't had that feeling in a while. Not since after they made this fake-relationship-deal.  
So, when Jacob Ben-Fucking-Israel walks up to him with that annoying ass grin of his (kid looks like he needs a short bus just to himself, for fuck's sakes!) and squeakily asks him if he has any comments on Finn and Rachel being back together, he just slams the kid into a locker, grabs him hard enough by the collar to have him almost dangling in the air and gasping for oxygen, and spits out  
"Hey, ass-wipe. If you ever talk to me again, I'll fucking hit you so hard your mom will have to fucking turn you inside out to ID your ugly-ass remains. Understood?"

Apparently, he does because Puck doesn't see him again for the rest of the day. He also doesn't see Finn or, disturbingly enough, Rachel. When he DOES see her, the following day, she looks right through him as if he never made her shake and shiver and yell his name in the throes of ecstasy.  
Seriously. What the fuck is up with this shit?  
She turns her back to him and disappears into class before he has a chance to talk to her.

Next time he sees Rachel Berry, she is on her tippy toes, leaning up against Finn Hudson's locker, locked in a hug that looks both intimate and affectionate. Worst of all, it looks familiar, like they've done nothing but hug each other for ages. He sees Finn's hand playing with a lock of Rachel's hair and that's when he decides to skip school for the rest of the day. He drives his truck to the 7-11 and waits until a cute blonde cougar comes by. He flirts with her, laying it on thick, and in 10 minutes he's got 2 cases of beer and one phone number.  
She tells him she'll be home alone all week long.

He stuffs the scrap of paper with the digits on it in his pocket. She's too old and too blonde and he's basically just not feeling it, but he's a hormonal teenager and he's also sort of angry, sort of horny and sort of pissed off and tired of feeling like the runner up to Finn Goddamn Hudson all the fucking time. Hopping into his truck, he pushes the beer under the seat and drives off to the reservoir to knock back the beers, think, and curse his fucking piece-of-shit life.

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

It's Tuesday and she's comforting Finn. Again. His long lanky body feels somehow wrong against hers, and she finds herself wishing it was harder, warmer and edgier, fitting hers like the missing piece of a puzzle. Basically that it wasn't his body leaning into hers, but rather Noah's.

He's called her again, she knows. She just can't bring herself to pick up. She knows he's just going to tell her that they're through, that's he's done with her and that they can finish their games now. She knew all along that he did that, leaving girls' beds before the stain has dried (she blushes at that thought and realize that she must have spent more time with him than she thought, since his vocabulary is rubbing off on her) but she never figured she'd be one of the gals he tossed out. Somehow, she'd convinced herself that it meant something else, something more to him too.  
That the way he called her "Rache" instead of the gender neutral and slightly degrading "Berry" (which actually also sounded rather sweet coming from him, nowadays, after he told her that her name was extremely suitable, since she smelled like strawberries and that it made him think of her whenever he felt the scent of strawberries), the way he'd held her after they had had sex and the way he'd known exactly what to say and how to hold her to make her stop crying when she was upset, and the fact that he'd made her cocoa, sang to her and read her a bedtime story when she had been scared… It hurt so badly, to realize that all that sweetness had been an act. He'd only been too happy to get rid of her when Finn had shown up.

And here she is now, holding Finn, listening to his story about how much he loves Quinn and how he's so desperate to work things out, but so very unsure whether or not they could make it through this drama of the miscarriage and the infidelity and all. He also talks a lot about how he used to be so angry with Puck but how Quinn had told him that he needed to forgive his friend, if she would ever be able to live with herself again (she knew what guilt buttons to push, that one! Rachel fleetingly wondered if she was of Jewish descent.) and so on, and so forth.

She hardly listens anymore. How many times can one boy reiterate the same goddamn fucking irritating story (Oh my – she really needs to stop with these profanities! Noah would have laughed until he cried if he'd heard her thoughts right now! Um… If he'd cared. Which he obviously didn't. She felt that stab of hurt and cold run through her veins again.) before he snaps out of it or it's time to revoke his manhood?

She cringes as he starts all over again, and her attention is somewhere else, when she suddenly feels a tickling sensation between her shoulder blades, that overrides the more hands on feeling of Finn holding a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger (which is super annoying because it's like a small prison and makes sure she looks straight at him even if she'd much rather be anywhere else, looking at anything except the pouty face of the boy she once thought she loved, as he goes on and on about the same heartbreak story). She shudders at the tickling feeling, and pulls her hair from Finn's gasp to turn around and see if there's something touching her.

She sees Puck stalk off and a stab of something different, entirely, rushes through her.  
Making up an excuse, she leaves Finn and walks away. She sees the familiar truck pull out of the parking lot and she can hear the screech of the tyres as he pulls out of the parking lot, leaving the school behind him.

* * *

**Puck's POV:**

Wednesday is almost the same.  
Rachel and Finn seem to be joint at the hip and she doesn't even glance at him. It pisses him off to no end. Seriously! He's Puckzilla! The badassest stud in town, and he not only know what she tastes like, he knows what she sounds like when she is horny, how her eyes glaze over as she is nearing her orgasm and how her body tenses just before she lets go and climaxes against him. He knows that. He also knows how to hold her when she cries, what spots on her back to stroke to make her tears subside, what to say and what jokes NOT to make to make her smile again, through the tears. He sincerely doubts that Finn knows anything about this, and he also seriously doubts that Finn will ever let go of Quinn. Still, there he is, The Golden Boy with the only girl Puck ever really wanted to keep to himself. Holding her like he's entitled to it.

He is well aware that he's gonna regret this, the second he walks up to Rachel in between classes (for once catching her sans freakishly tall bodyguard) and says  
"Yo, Berry! Giving it up to Hudson now? Want me to give him some pointers? After all… You know his girls usually turn to me for a good fuck… and… well… I've done you, already, and I don't really go for leftovers."

* * *

**Rachel's POV:****  
**  
She recoils, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room and inside her head. It hurts so badly and she feels tears burning her eyes, almost like they want to rival the burning sensation in the palm of her hand. (In the movies, people never seem to feel pain when they're slapping others. Not even when they punch them. Just another example of why happy endings are purely fiction. What happens in the movies – stays in the movies.)

Wide eyed and short on breath, she crosses her arms in front of her chest, legs in a wide stance and chin held up high. The words she utters are uncharacteristically short and concise when she says  
"Never speak to me again. Ever."

She spins around on her heel and – this time – storms out for a reason.

* * *

**Puck's POV:****  
**  
For a tiny chick with the smallest set of hands like ever, she packs a mean punch. The slap she delivers has him almost teary eyed, but no way will he ever admit to that, so he shoots her a glare and asks  
"That all you got? You smacked me harder when we were fucking!"  
with a vicious smirk, he turns his back on her (just as she takes off in the opposite direction) and just walks out of school for the second day that week. He 's barely left school grounds before his phone is by his ear, ringing away.  
She picks up after five rings and he learns that her name is Kendra. He doesn't care one bit. She could be Martha, Eileen, Lucy or Louelle for all he cares, but he lowers his voice into a sexy, rough, deep timbre that he usually refers to as his panty-dropping-voice and introduces himself.  
"Hey babe... It's Puck, we met at 7-11... I can't stop thinking about you. Whatcha up to?"  
As he predicted, she's quick to explain that she's in fact not doing a single thing but she'd LOVE some company.

Twenty minutes later, he's balls deep in KendraMarthaEileenLucyLouelle's pussy, listening to her as she pants and moans, doing some lame-ass-fucking sound he reckons she thinks is a sexy purr, while he drives into her from behind, playing with her clit as she bucks against his hard cock. It feels wrong somehow, but he dedicates himself to getting her off, and then allows himself to come in her mouth while she sucks him off as some kind of thanks.  
He's out of there the moment the used condom hits the waste basket, and her number follows it into the trash. He doesn't care if she sees, either. This is not a performance he wishes to repeat.

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

She thinks this might be the feeling one gets, as their heart is breaking.  
No matter how many slushies he's thrown at her through the years, and no matter how many times he's called her crazy-ass-Berry, laughing at her and demeaning her in front of the class, she'd never have expected this.

She most certainly wouldn't have expected it to hurt this badly.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer:  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_Thanks and love to Anna: the BETA that makes all other BETAs seem redundant. ;)  
Love you, babe! :D  
_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 14,  
Puck's POV:**

Strangely enough, it's Quinn that makes the entire difference.

He spends the rest of the week skipping classes, getting high and/or drunk and getting laid by horny cougars that all feel the same, smell the same and sound the same way when they come. It grows old really fast and he finally just walks out on one of them. She is standing in her underwear, fuming with anger, as he just gets up off her bed and says "Whatever. Gotta go. See ya." and leaves.  
Something almost hits him on the way to the truck (a stiletto heeled shoe – fuck! She could castrate him with that shit!). He picks up speed and jogs to the car, hopping in and taking off while she wails something intelligible from the poolside where she's standing now, one shoe on her foot and the other on the driveway. He makes sure he crushes it with his wheels as he pulls out of the driveway with a screech and takes off.

He didn't remember her name, even while he was still in the house.

Coming home, his mother tells him that Quinn's called. She's not very happy about the fact, but being a true Jewish mother she probably figures that she'll be able to use it against him at some time or another, so she puts on her pained-martyr-mother-face and lets him know.  
He returns the call. No matter how fucked up shit became, she's still his baby mama and something inside him (it might be that little voice that people usually refer to as your conscience, or it might just be something like along the lines of a message from his decency) says that you should never ignore the calls from your baby mama.

Good thing too!

Quinn picks up immediately.  
"Puck. Glad you called! Look, we need to talk."  
He hums something that can be construed as approval and she continues on to tell him about how she's deliriously happy that Finn's agreed to forgive & forget, how he understands what happened and (this is the kicker – and when Puck starts listening close) how she owes it all to Rachel.  
"Huh?" is all he can say, because his mouth is suddenly so dry his tongue feels numb and there's a lump, the size of a golf ball, in his throat that just refuses to go away no matter how hard or often he swallows.  
"Yea! Rachel, of all people! I've tormented that girl and still she was the one who never judged me after I got preggers. Not even after she found out that Finn wasn't the father…"  
"Cut to the chase, Q!"  
"Chill, Puck! I was just getting there. It seems your girlfriend has talked Finn into forgiving and forgetting! I have NO idea how she did it… Maybe she just told him big words until he surrendered but…"  
"Stop. Wait. What the fuck are you saying?"  
"Finn and I are back together. He's accepted what happened and he's forgiven me for seducing you and you for … giving in… and it's all thanks to Rachel Berry!"  
He was going to remember this moment for the rest of his life. The moment when he felt his heart fall all the way down into his stomach and then slowly and excruciatingly thoroughly break apart, its tiny sharp pieces cutting him like ten thousand knives from within.  
"Shit. I've fucked up, Q… Badly!"

How was he ever going to be able to fix this mess?

Turns out that a baby mama isn't the worst friend a fucked up juvenile delinquent can have. She listens to him as he pours his heart out to her, explaining the entire Rachel-affair from the beginning (when he basically got together with her because she was a hot Jew and he had that dream of her), to the time when she dared standing up to him by making him sing to her (which was when he realized that he wanted to do stuff for her) on to her attempt to break them up and how that had resulted in the fake relationship he had loved to the degree when he wanted it to never end, and how that had made him try to make himself irreplaceable to her… Until he'd seen her in Finn's arms, and how he'd quickly jumped to conclusions at that sight – ending up letting his mouth talk before running the idea through his brain, thus doing the stupidest goddamn thing he'd ever done and probably fucking up his chances of ever being with her for real, for all eternity.

Quinn listens and hums quietly at the other end of the line, until he tells her every single detail. His voice is strained and his breathing hitched when she finally speaks up and asks him  
"You really love her, don't you?"  
"Yea. I pretty much adore her."  
"Puck… I am saying this as your friend, but you're a fucking idiotic dumb-ass. You know that right?"  
Did he ever? He agrees wholeheartedly to her assessment, and just sits there for a while, tears running down his cheeks (not that he'd ever admit to it, even if she calls him out on it) and then, simply states "I have to fix this, and I think I'll need your help."  
She giggles with a snort and says "I thought you'd never ask. Let's get busy!"

He texts her later, after he and Quinn have hung up and he's had some time to think.  
"Will you talk to me if I beg?"  
He spends the evening checking his phone for messages, while he kicks some alien ass courtesy of his x-box, goes for a drive (strangely enough, he passes her house twice, which of course is purely coincidental... Ehm...) and then erases random cougar (and high school chicks he's no interest in bedding again) phone numbers from his phone, while trying to figure out exactly why Quinn & he get along better now than ever before.  
Sitting on his bed, he's strumming his guitar, singing, when his phone lights up and the beeping noise announces the arrival of a new text message. His stomach does a backflip and he's holding his breath while he reaches for it and reads  
"Leave me alone."

Had his heart not already been broken, he thinks it might have shattered now.

He replies to her message with a simple "Please?" but the phone remains quiet all night no matter how many times he checks to make sure it's still there, and still working.  
He wakes up to a message, though. It says  
"Your presence is no longer required in my life in any way, what so ever. I would appreciate it if you'd just stay as far away from me as possible, at any given time. I am in no dire need of the company of a Lima loser, nor will I ever be. Goodbye, Puck."

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

She didn't expect this hurt to be so persistent. After all, she'd believed her heart had broken before, but nothing Finn had done ever made her ache like this. It feels like walking through water. Everything sort of happens in slow motion and her thoughts are sluggish, unfocused and refuse to stay on topic. It takes its toll on her school work. So much so, that she's pretty sure that her fathers or the teachers will start noticing soon.

After a few days, the feeling slowly changes within her. The pain and all the tears leave and in their wake, there's a void. A numb, hollow void that fills her completely and makes it impossible for her to care about superficial stuff like reacting to the caricatures of her on the bathroom walls (and apparently her indifference is the key to their existence, because after the cleaner has scrubbed them off that week, they never re-appear) or caring whether or not she gets a place to sit at lunch. It's not like it matters, because she's not hungry anyway. Her slender body is quickly starting to look less elegant and more malnutritioned. Her cheeks are hollow and the dark rings under her eyes are getting to the point where no concealer in the world will camouflage them.  
She doesn't really bother trying. She just plasters on her bright smile, but no smile in the world can disguise the flatness of her once so chipper voice or the dead look in her eyes.

It's like she cannot physically force herself to care. No. Worse. She can't even act like she does and she IS after all a great actress. Rachel Berry, who can turn her tear ducts on and off like a water faucet, or can smile when her heart is breaking, can not for the life of her even pretend like she gives a shit, right now.

She just wishes it'd go away.

She sees him sometimes in the halls and during classes, but he stopped looking at her at the same time his texts stopped making her phone beep (which it did instantly after she sent him that absolutely vile text about him being a Lima loser. She knew that'd be his Achilles' heel, so she'd happily aimed at it) and his eyes are empty, soulless and dull when he sometimes look her way, never ever meeting her gaze.  
It's like he's not even inside anymore. Like he's an empty shell. But perhaps she's just projecting her own feelings of vacancy onto him.

She misses him like crazy.

Every night, she wakes up with a start, patting down the empty space beside her in bed where his body once used to lie with such effortless elegance, and every day when her eyes catch a glimpse of his now perpetual scowl, her treacherous mind translates it, waking up memories of him grinning down at her, eyes gleaming with exuberance and mischief.  
He never smiles, or even smirks, anymore. He just tosses people into the dumpsters, slushies freshmen and his entire harem has started avoiding him, because he's just too plain nasty to them.

Next time she sees him, is after math class. As usual, he's not been there, so she's sort of shocked by seeing him when he rounds the corner and walks up to her as if he'd been expecting her to exit the classroom. Not one word is spoken. His lips are pressed into a tight line, his body tense; shoulders squared, back straight as an arrow, face stern and almost angry. He doesn't even look at her but she knows what he's not saying. His silence speaks volumes and she feels like she could cry.  
This was not how it was supposed to go!  
They reach her locker and she falters, stops and turns to him, opening her mouth to say it. Without a glance, he just walks away.

The sound in her ears drown out all the voices in the corridor. There's just a rapid, unsteady boom boom boom of her heart and the noise of the blood rushing through her veins left. Like her world has been reduced to this, the burning in her eyes, the mind numbing pain in her chest and the weakness in her knees that has her on the verge of just falling apart.

Worst part? She's pretty sure he hurts just as much and it's all her fault. He didn't deserve this.


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer:  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)_

_Again: Thanks for reviews, favouriting and putting on alert! Hope I don't disappoint!  
Also: lots of love to my rockin' BETA, Anna. ;)_

_To the person who left the "huh"-comment:  
**Thank you!** I may be crazy but the fact that I managed to make you so angry with Puck, makes me happy - because it proves to me that my writing makes you feel. I couldn't ask for more!  
I also agree with you, to an extent - but Rachel has a life of her own and while I wouldn't act the way she does... Hopefully I'm pretty close to the character? :)  
Keep reading, please, even if you hate him now. He might surprise you? ;)  
_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 15,  
Puck's POV:**

The fuck if he's gonna let this shit go on for any longer than it already has. Quinn had told him to be patient, but nothing happens and he's had it with this fucking situation. It has to change.

So he breaks in.  
He's pretty good at picking locks (long story containing one deadbeat dad, one underpaid mom, one kid sister who hadn't eaten properly for days and one older neighbourhood kid with a juvie record and a big heart) so he enters through the front door and disables the alarm (not surprisingly, the code is "star", which he picked up on once after standing behind her as she let him in) quickly and efficiently.  
He locks the door behind him (in case her dads come home first he can climb out her window, or whatever, and no one will be the wiser, since they'll probably just assume that they forgot to activate the alarm when they left in the morning).

When Rachel enters her room, he's waiting for her in the chaise by her window, but not as coolly as he'd planned since he's fallen asleep during the wait. He wakes up as she shakes him.  
"Puck! What in the name of everything holy are you doing here? Get out of my house immediately or I WILL call the police!"  
Her voice and posture are stiff and relentless, but her eyes are swimming with something else. Something he can't quite identify but that gives him a small sliver of hope. He catches her hand and looks up at her pleadingly  
"Please, just hear me out!"

For a long minute, she just stares at him without a word but she doesn't pull free from his grip, and he holds onto her hand and the hope it gives him like they were a life buoy and he was a drowning man. The metaphor seems rather fitting to him, right about now.  
She finally sighs and nods slightly.  
"Okay. You have five minutes. Make them count."

"First of all. My name is Noah. No one else can call me Noah, except my mom, but I hate it when you call me Puck. The way you called me Noah always made me believe that I could be more than what everyone else expected of me. I don't want to be a deadbeat, no-good loser like my dad. I want to be the guy you used to tell me I could be… You know?"

She doesn't answer him. She just stares at him with big, unyielding eyes, her body not betraying a single emotion within her.

"I fucked up. Like really, really fucked up. Royally. Look, Rache… I started dating you because you're a hot Jew, and I kept dating you because Finn wanted you but you KNOW that's not all it was to it…"  
He swallows and closes his eyes. He can feel her eyes on him, but she says nothing. Nothing at all.  
"I only ever persuaded you to stay with me because I hoped I would be able to like… charm you into liking me too. And I think you did like me. Didn't you?"  
His hopeful eyes meet cool indifference, but he has come too far to back down now. He continues.

"Yea… So… When you found out about Q and you didn't freak out… I fucking thought I'd hit the jackpot. I loved you so much right then…"  
He's silent for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts.  
" Um... Yea, so when Hudson came by that night… It wasn't about me hiding you, you know? It was probably fucking stupid, but the thought of him knowing… seeing you like that… with my fingerprints and my scent all over your body… I couldn't deal with it. Like… You were mine and I wasn't gonna share you with him. Plus… I tried to be a pal and not rub it in his face, after all the shit that went down with the baby and all…"  
He hesitates for a few seconds before he continues.  
"So… When I saw you with him, it broke my heart. I thought you'd gone back to him and I… Fuck, Rache… What I said to you. You should have fucking ripped my head off. I deserved it. Then Q told me that you had talked Hudson into forgiving us and… I knew I'd like… you know - done the most fucking stupid shittiest thing ever and… that's pretty fucking bad, since I'm a dumb fuck to begin with. So yea… I'll leave you alone now, but I just wanted you to know. And I love you."

He stands up to leave and she lets him, his hand slipping out of hers easily as she doesn't try to hold onto it or even move a finger as their hands untangle and fall free of one another. She doesn't even look at him. Her small stature is tense, uninviting and her arms are wrapped around her chest.

He knows, then, that he's lost the best thing he ever had.

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

It takes her ten minutes to compute what he's told her, and another five minutes to unclench all the muscles in her body that has her frozen in place exactly where he left her after he told her his truth.  
Her movements are slow and measured when she picks up her phone and dials his number. There's no reply and she's not really surprised.  
She drives over to his house, but nobody's home. Sitting on his driveway, she feels the tears burn behind her eyelids and a tightness settle over her chest, making it hard to breathe. She counts to ten, then counts to ten again and finally she counts to one hundred, while drawing steady, determined breaths – and finally, it hits her.

She finds him sitting at the tailgate of his truck down by the reservoir, bottle of vodka in one hand and an unopened 2 liter bottle of coca cola between his knees. He doesn't look up when she parks her car, and he doesn't move at all when she approaches. Not until her tiny body curls into his side and her arms wrap around his shaking body, does he turn a tear drenched face to her and beg.

"Please, don't hate me…!"

She shakes her head silently at him and holds him to her as she cries all the tears she hasn't been able to let out during the last couple of days. He silently wipes them off, using the arm of his hooded sweatshirt which comforts her more than it should since it's a shoddy and threadbare patch of fabric (it smells like him, to her. Something comforting and homely. Like pine trees, gasoline, a hint of sweat on clean skin – or maybe it's his body heat she senses the smell of – and a musky, peppery scent that just him and him alone).

**Puck's POV:**

He can tell from the look on her face that she recognizes it. It's the extra hoodie he keeps in the truck for emergencies, and she's worn it a couple of times.  
"It smells like you a little" he says, in a shy, low voice, like it slips out of him against his will.  
That liquid, warm unidentifiable emotion shows up in her eyes again, and she sort of melts against him like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing, completing him in a way he's never known before.

They sit like that for half an hour or so, both of them lost in thoughts, relishing the warmth of each other's body and the scent of the other mingling with the fragrances of the flowers that grow abundantly by the side of the water, the earthy tones of the mulling leaves in the dirt and the strangely distinct smell of the water in itself (he's never noticed that there's a specific scent to water before) until she pulls herself from his arms and looks up at him with her huge brown doe eyes swimming with tenderness, and whispers  
"Noah… I love you too."

There's nothing raw or rough or even hurried about this.  
They're leaning back on the bed of his truck, where he's laid out some blankets he keeps for emergencies, so it's pretty much like lying in bed, except there are stars above them and the moonlight makes her hair shine, looking almost like she's got a halo. He laughs at the thought of her wearing a halo since the rest of her isn't very saint'ish at all. Her top is off, her skirt has been discarded and she's dressed in nothing but a set of white cotton panties and a bra of the kind that should look rather innocent, except… It kinda doesn't. The bra consists of two triangular scraps of fabric that loops around her slender neck and ties behind her back. The matching panties are just as school-girl looking with their bows protruding from her hipbones. They're pretty common, nothing fancy, nothing in-your-face sexy about them and they really shouldn't make him this horny but they do, since he knows that with one quick movement of his hands to undo the knots, she'd be completely naked. The knowledge turns him on like crazy. Basically this is simply because she's Rachel, but also because she's in her underwear. Only.  
Right now she's looking like some kind of haloed hedonistic goddess with her hair all messy from making out (he can't resist running his hands through her long tresses when they kiss. It's like inevitable or some shit like that.), her lips pouty and her cheeks flushed, while she watches him through half-lidded eyes, swimming with heat that tells him that…  
This is gonna be good.

"C'mere" is all he manages to say, before he pulls her up on top of him, and claim her lips with his. They're kissing slowly this time. Nothing in the world seems to be more important than this dance of their tongues and the sounds they make when they need to come up for air.

His calloused hands run slowly across her small frame, caressing and touching in all the right places until she is panting his name. He loves the way it sounds coming from her lips, and especially when those lips are swollen from kisses and slightly parted because she is breathing so heavily from her arousal.  
He's taking his sweet time and she's not sure whether it's more amazing or torturous.

Kissing her, while slowly moving his fingertips across her back, he undoes the bow there and removes her bra before bowing down to suck gently at the delicate skin of the pulse point on her beautiful, slender neck and letting his hands slide over to her chest. He pauses to pay homage to her nipples and is rewarded with Rachel's voice breathlessly mewling out his name against his neck. His hands slide further down as his lips take the place his fingers just left. He worships her breasts with his lips and his tongue, while his hands sweep across her thighs, gently scratching at her hipbones before untying the ribbons on her panties, letting them just fall off and leave her naked and exposed to his admiring eyes.

He lifts her up, off from his lap, and lays her down on the blankets – devouring her with his eyes. The rough, calloused tips of his fingers move over her body so gently it makes her arch upwards as she craves the contact to deepen, harden. He lets out a low, rumbling, saying  
"Easy, love… We have all night…!"

* * *

**Rachel's POV:**

This time, the words he plucks from her lips aren't the least bit dirty (nor does he seem to wish for them to be) and what he tells her has no tinge of naughtiness. Every word from his lips tell her how beautiful she is to him, how wonderful she feels and how she makes him a better person. She loves him for it, and as she finally lets go for the last time that night, she does so to the sound of his voice whispering her name, and telling her

"I love you."


	16. Chapter 16 an epilogue

_Disclaimer:  
I don't own anything except my mistakes.  
I might also be responsible for Rachel's somewhat less highstrung vocabulary  
(because, let's face it, I'm just not good enough to write tirades like that!),  
but that might also just be a coincidence. ;)  


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_

**Chapter 16****,  
Puck's POV:**

_"All's well that ends well."_

He laughs as the end credits of his sister's favourite happy-ending-kiddieshow roll and the classic comment is said, followed by cheesy, synthesized music that has the little girl up and dancing the exact same dance as the animated characters on the screen does (he already knows he lets her watch too much TV and this is the proof he didn't need. His mom would kill him if she realized that the fruit of her loins both know their TV-shows better than their conjugated verbs or whatever).

The text still lingers across the screen in huge, sparkly, pink letters: All's well that ends well!  
He's got exactly one comment to that statement:  
Bah humbug!

Nothing fucking changes.

Like ever. He's still getting into a shitload of trouble for not "applying himself" in school. There's still that extracurricular activity he needs to get started with, if he wants to pass Spanish at all (Mr. Schue never cut him any slack before, and he sure as fuck hasn't started now.) and just showing up to math instead of napping at the nurse's office doesn't miraculously make him pass the class, unfortunately.  
Santana's still on his case like some lame-ass stupid bitch straight from the fucking Jerry Springer show, or some shit like that, and she's been giving Rachel hell for "stealing my boyfriend" even though he most certainly never considered their occasional fucks as anything except just that.  
She never did either; she just loves the drama it excuses.

Finn and him… Well, they're back to talking terms but Quinn's statement that he'd forgiven them both was pretty much blown out of proportion. Like hell the Golden Boy forgave anyone. Unless they were women. Dumb fuck is pussy whipped as ever by Quinn, now that she's back to her former queen bee status and she's, like, bitchier than ever. The only person she seems to have decided to actually be nice to, is Rachel.  
That doesn't change Rachel one bit. She's still pretty much the same as before: goal driven, ambitious, talented, self-assured and kinda abrasive even though she's toned it down a little bit. Not much. I mean, shit, she's still crazy-ass-Berry most of the time even if she's mellowed like a percent or two, but she doesn't get slushied for it anymore.  
As a matter of fact, people sort of seem to be okay with her. They might not like her and call her the second they wanna throw a party, but hey… That would have been too much to aim for anyway.

Still, since she's got the queen with a capital Q on her side (and a slightly less uptight vocabulary – she even curses from time to time, which she blames on him. He totally agrees, but never to her face.), she's not a social pariah anymore and that makes Puck feel thankful towards Quinn in a way he never would have expected.

So yeah, things are pretty much the same as always.

Except now, whenever he fucks up, he's got Rachel to set him straight and their study sessions are actually just that, from time to time. His grades are improving, and his dream of getting out of this cow town might actually be achievable. (He totally blames his genious girlfriend for knowing words like that.)  
And honestly?

He might not have a clue about the ending yet, but hell… At least this is _starting out_ pretty fucking awesome!...

**/The End  


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**

_Comments are as welcome to me, as applauds are to Rachel!_ ;)


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